It's been a week since then. Since that day. Since Freddy proposed to Chica. Well... kind of. The stress of planning the wedding was definitely getting to them. The pro's of being a best friend to both of them though, was Mangle could hear both things they wanted for the wedding, and help them both. Helping people was insanely tiring, but she did it anyway, because if she didn't, there was always this annoying voice in the back of her head nagging her about what use she could've been. The voice doesn't really bother her as much as she thinks it does though, she's grown to recognize that she enjoys helping people, and it even boosts her own confidence, helping other's with theirs'. Helping her friends plan the wedding however, was a business she signed up for without reading the contract. She's realizing a lot of things about Chica and Freddy during the workshopping. They're perfectionists, with a very different view of what perfect is. They didn't really fight about it though, that's what she admired about the two. They were able to come to compromises fairly easily, and a spat was incredibly rare. When they do happen though, it's a rollercoaster. One night, Chica had crashed at Mangle's place because of a fight they had late at night. "Well, what were you fighting about?" Mangle asked her, crossing her legs over each other as she sat on the edge of her bed. "Ugh, he's been drinking recently to handle the stress, and you know he's an @$$h0le when he's drunk on cheep booze, " She complained, flopping onto Mangle's bed beside her. "Well, make him drink expensive booze instead," Mangle mumbled, taking a sip from her white wine and shrugging. "Not funny right now," Chica glared at her for a moment before scoffing out a very small laugh. "If it's not funny then why are you laughing?" Mangle giggled, picking up a pink, heart shaped pillow, and bumping Chica's head with it, knocking her onto her back. They laughed together for a moment, laying on their backs on Mangle's bed. "So, did he apologize?" Mangle asked eventually. "He will tomorrow, when he's sobered up," Chica sat up, cross-legged, staring at her fluffy red pajama pants. "If he apologizes that's all that matters," Mangle pointed out. Maybe Mangle was biased, but she didn't think Freddy would ever say something foul, to Chica especially, on purpose, he's just stressed. "Could I get a sip of that?" Chica gestured to Mangle's wine glass. "I could pour you a glass if you want, down at my pop's bar, " Mangle replied, springing herself off of her bed. "Oh, alright," Chica shrugged, and rose from Mangle's bed. The two girls ushered their way down to Springtraps bar to get some wine.
