Fazbear Entertainment Publishing Company

Chapter 1: Leaving Home

(A/N: Please read the description of  the story. Otherwise not much of the first few chapters are going to make sense.)

Isaac was never really the type to get along with his dad. For as long as he could remember, his old man, Quincy, was never truly proud of him. Isaac had been told by dear old dad how much talent that he had and how he needs to put it to good use by taking up his role as Freddy Fazbear. But Isaac never cared about becoming Freddy, nor does he care about that stupid "Freddy and Friends: on Tour" nonsense. It's just some mindless kids' show where some people dress up in dumb costumes and sing showtunes. Besides, no one cares about it anymore. Almost everyone agrees if, asked about it, that it's pointless to continue the show since it hasn't made much money in a long time. It had its glory days, and now it's over. No need to beat a dead horse.

Ever since Dad took over, the show has lost even it's most loyal fans. It's not like he and his bandmates were bad at what they did, they were amazing. But, people aren't interested in goofy singing "animals" with a musical comedy show. The songs they created and performed were too generic. Not only that, but their incarnation of the characters they took on were bland and uninteresting. The whole thing was a recipe for disaster. Isaac didn't want to take on the dying name of Fazbear only to watch the whole thing crash and burn. Though, if he did want to, he most certainly could. Isaac had been blessed with a beautiful singing voice, as nearly all of his family has. A voice that Dad insists must be used for fame.

It's not like Isaac didn't like singing, it's just that if Dad found out that about it, he would never let Isaac hear the end of it. Even though dad is already persistent in him joining, he didn't want to give Dad any sort of leeway, otherwise he would be walked over.

Today is the last day Isaac will have to hear from his father again, at least he hopes. He recently found an apartment in the next city over. He would be moving into it today and meet his new roommate. He would no longer have to listen on and on to his Dad's rambling about the glory days for Freddy and how much power and wonder the Fazbear name holds or any of that. No, today he would not be having any of it. He would leave and never even think about moving back.

Isaac had been slowly moving some of his things into his apartment so that Dad wouldn't notice. Now the only things left for him to take are his clothes, some of his books, and his toiletries, along with some other miscellaneous items. He shoves everything he can into a suitcase without thinking. He and Dad had gotten into a bit of a fight last night, and Isaac was not looking to talk about it.

"Isaac! Where are you? We need to talk about last night." Dad calls from downstairs. So much for getting away without speaking to Dad. Isaac stays silent, hoping Dad would assume he's a asleep and leave him alone. "Isaac Bartholomew Lewis! I heard you moving around up there! Get down here!" Dad shouts. Isaac's heavy footsteps have betrayed him again! He grumbles as he begrudgingly walks downstairs to his father. Quincy is a tall and slender man with graying, chocolate brown hair and bright blue eyes. "Look, I get it. You don't want to join the show, but you should at least consider something in music!" Dad lectures.

"Why should I? I have no interest. Music is boring to me and I like the life I have set for me." Isaac responds.

"What life? You disappear in the middle of the night and come home with all these cuts and bruises. When I ask you about it, you just shrug it off." He crosses his arms, "I care a lot about you, son. I don't think the life you planned is going to go well in the long run."

"Dad, this is not what I want for myself. I know I have gotten in trouble in the past, but I really am making a life for myself. I even found an apartment for me to live in. I need you to respect my choice and to stop pressuring me into something I am not cut out for." Isaac explains.