AN: Okay, here it is! Just some quick notes, this takes place in an alternate universe where Shane lives in the city, whether it be Zuzu or NYC, is up to you.. This fic contains some strong language, alcohol abuse, and thoughts of suicide. It is by no means for the light hearted and will only get progressively darker/more mature, but don't worry it will have its happy moments too. I will be writing from two POVs, one being Shane and the other my OC, Rory. And the Disclaimer! Stardew Valley and its characters belong to Chucklefish! Please do leave a comment if you enjoyed it, or have some constructive criticism! Thank you!
This morning could have perhaps been one of the worst of his life. Though it was safe to say he felt like this every morning, he would still deny it. Today was the absolute worst. Without a doubt. It was a Sunday and though he usually had the day off, the store manager himself, Morris, had called him in to fill in for another employee. And it was raining. Fuck. His head beat like a thousand drums and his body screamed at the littlest of attempts to sit up. He wanted nothing more than to lay back down and sleep off the raging hangover which clung to him so heavily, a result of the previous nights drinking..
After several failed attempts, Shane managed to get himself sitting up but was quick to regret his decision as a horrible sensation fell upon him. As if things couldn't get worse he now felt suddenly nauseous and made a grab for the trash bin which he must have conveniently placed by his bedside before passing out in a drunken mess. There couldn't honestly be a worse feeling than puking up pepperoni pizza, jalapeno poppers, and cheap beer. He heaved a second time it was so bad. Very groggily he wiped at the corner of his mouth with his sweater sleeve, having fallen asleep in his clothes like usual.
Feeling the slightest bit better dare he admit, he observed his sleeve. He couldn't recall the last time he'd washed his sweater and it proved to be quite some time as it was stained from previous retchings. Now he wasn't one to lie to himself, he knew it needed washing, but it wasn't likely to happen for some time. His self esteem had reached an all time low. He'd given up on caring long ago, plus his bumish appearance did good on keeping others at bay..
Though it could be said Morris wouldn't appreciate him wearing such a thing to work, in fact he'd probably be sent home. The corner of his mouth quirked up in the slightest of smirks but it quickly fell into a frown. He needed the money to help Marnie with rent. Not to mention to buy beer with as well.. With a low grumble he stood and began searching through the clothes strung out around his room.
It took him some time as his room was not the cleanest of places, but he eventually found the sweater for which he'd been looking for. It was a deep red, faded and worn with holes in the sleeves. After finding his uniform and getting dressed he zipped the hoodie up. It only reminded him of the weight he'd gained, clinging to his body in a way it hadn't before. He shot a glare at the mirror, but was hardly able to stand the sight of himself and so was quick to look away.
Now further upset, he kicked his clothes around till he found the pants which contained his keys and wallet. Stuffing them deep into his pockets and waltzed out of his room. His Aunt Marnie was already at the stove, cooking up some breakfast.
"Good morning Shane!" She beamed.
"Good morning," He grumbled.
Marnie looked suddenly taken aback. "Where are you going so early in the morning?" She asked, perplexed.
"Work," He said with much displeasure.
His Aunt began to reach into the nearest cabinet which held the glasses and mugs.
"Don't even bother," He stated before making his way for the door.
The older woman wore a disheartened look on her face before it turned stern. "You hardly take care of yourself as it is, the least you could do is let me get you a glass of water," She turned to face him hands on hips.
"I'm fine," He insisted and with that walked out the apartment door, closing it firmly behind him.
Once he was out of earshot, or what he presumed to be as he was quite paranoid he said, "Damn woman, you'd think she was my mother." but regret came shortly after. Marnie was kind enough to let his dead beat ass live there, he supposed the least he could do was drink a glass of water just to please her. But it was too late now he'd already made his way down the six flights of stairs that were such a bitch to climb after work.
And it wasn't until he'd made his way outside that he realized he'd forgotten an umbrella.
"Fuck," He breathed as the rain pelleted him from above. A matter of minutes passed and he'd only walked three blocks, yet he could already feel the water soaking through his sweater. He'd pray that this day couldn't get any goddamn worse but he knew there was little to no point. He didn't believe there was a god, there certainly couldn't be one but he supposed, that maybe if there was one, he sure didn't give a single damn about Shane. He mumbled a curse, kicking an empty can across the wet pavement and watching it bounce into the street. A second hadn't even seemed to pass before it was crushed suddenly by an oncoming car.
That could have been him, he thought. He could have ran out in the street and ended it all. How unlucky it would be for Morris if he never showed up. Perhaps the fat man would feel some guilt, because if he hadn't called him in that morning it wouldn't have happened. But no. His manager probably would have laughed and said good riddance. He would have suffered one day just to see Shane gone after all it wouldn't be so hard to find a replacement for an entry level job. He let out a deep sigh, eyes staring at the ground beneath him. His work shoes were now thoroughly soaked and they made a horrible squishing sound with each step. Ugh.
And to make matters worse, there stood the devil himself arms crossed over his chest and a frown upon his face as Shane stepped through the grocery store door.
"You're late Shane. Twenty minutes late," Morris said, tapping a foot impatiently.
God, how this man got under his skin. He wanted so badly to make just one snide remark to the fat man. But he needed this job. He needed to keep it, and he needed to keep his cool to the best of his abilities as hard as it was. And so he would return to the employee locker room where he would hang his dripping wet hoodie, clock on, and begin the worst eight hours of his life..