It was 10:15 on a Monday morning when Ross Ryan realized that there was nothing he would like more than to dig his own brain out with a rusty spoon.
He had gotten to work an hour late, which meant that he had to avoid company rats who would report him by entering through the "secret" basement door that everyone knew about. Once inside, he'd expertly avoided the security cameras and ascended the stairs, only to bump directly into his boss, James.
"Ross? Why're you coming up from the basement?" James had said.
The first thing Ross could come up with was "I got locked in there overnight." That didn't fly, probably because his hair was still wet from the shower. James scowled.
James was about 50, classic middle-manager type. He was usually nervous and always sleep-deprived. The hair on his head had long since abandoned him, and a patchy grey beard had risen up from the depths to replace it.
"This is the third time this month you've been late, Ross." He glanced at Ross's sandy brown hair, which was unkempt as usual, and then at his shirt - the same green collared number he'd been wearing for the last two days. "I get that you're only 21 and maybe a little in over your head here, but at Joja we expect professionalism. D'you know what that is?"
"Oh yes, absolutely, James," Ross monotoned. 'Course he knew what professionalism was. He just couldn't be arsed to partake in it anymore. Three years of working for the worst company on the planet could do that to a young, fresh-faced, optimistic (read: naive) kid.
"James, sir."
Ross grunted. James's scowl grew deeper.
"You're on thin ice, Ryan. One more incident like this and you're out of here. Just because your Daddy got you this job doesn't mean I can't get you out of it."
Ross pumped his fist sarcastically. "I'll make sure that I don't disappoint you more than I already have, sire."
James's features softened just a little as he and Ross boarded the elevator up to their floor, the 22nd. "You really have no interest in what we do, do you? Why are you even here?"
Ross sipped his coffee. "Nepotism."
"Well, yeah. But besides that. You don't have any passion for this. Isn't there anything else you want to be doing?"
Ross sighed. James wasn't a bad guy, really. In all honesty, he was probably the closest thing Ross had to a friend at Joja Corp. James was just doing his job, and Ross suspected he was only here because he didn't have an alternative. The problem was his job was directly contributing to the brutal, painful death of Ross's own soul.
"Sure, I have passions, James. Playing music, and writing, and reading. Passions don't pay bills. S'what my dad says, anyways."
James snorted. "You know very well what I think of your dad," he said. Ross's father was also James's direct superior. James thought of him as nothing more than a bully. Ross was inclined to agree. "You're 21 and you have your whole life ahead of you. You don't have to stay under his thumb your whole life."
Ross looked at him with mock hope. "If you can find me a way out of here, I will literally suck your-"
"Okay, no thanks. Yoba, dude. I could also book you for sexual harassment now, you know."
Ross looked down at his Converse hi-tops (sneakers were against Joja dress code) and said "Face it, James. I'm gonna be stuck here until I'm old and slow and dead. Kinda like you."
James shook his head in disgust as the elevator door opened. "You really are an asshole, man. Grow the hell up. I want those 201 reports on my desk by lunch time." They stepped out of the elevator, James going left to his office and Ross going right to his little stupid corporate-whore cubicle.
'Grow up?' he thought, trying to rationalize his dickishness but not being able to. Instead he just thumbed his nose in the direction of James's office. Then he turned around and plunked down into the chair in his fabric-covered toilet stall and stared at his computer screen. A sign on the wall above him read "Life's better with Joja." That sign alone was grounds for extreme workplace violence.
The great thing about cubicles is that they're open to the environment, and that means you can hear every single little sound on the office floor. Wonderful sounds, such as the shrill-voiced receptionist answering the phone over and over, or the squirrely guy in the corner listening to country music very loudly on the radio, or Angry Bill losing his goddamned mind at a jammed printer.
One time Ross had stolen the wall off an empty cubicle and placed it on top of his own, making a roof. It wasn't much, but it did help drown out a decent amount of noise. The next day, he'd been reprimanded by James and had his roof taken away. Some jerk had complained "if he gets a roof, we should all get a roof" and clearly there weren't enough cubicle walls for everyone to get a roof, so Ross's had to go.
Ross turned on the computer, glared at the screen, and then promptly shut it off again. It's wasn't like anyone knew whether or not he did any work. He himself wasn't even sure what he did for the company, and yet for all the things he'd been reprimanded for, he'd never once been called out for not doing any work. Which was odd, because most of the time he did nothing and still got paid for it.
However, today James wanted the 201 reports done (Ross didn't know what a 201 report even was, and yet somehow he was qualified to fill them out), and that meant someone was actually paying attention to what he was doing. Turning his attention to the stack of paper on his desk, he took one off the top of the pile and read it.
'Initial here, here and here...and here…that's it?' Ross sighed, relieved. Easy enough. He could be done in an hour and have the rest of the morning to slack off.
He clicked his pen and signed the first initial...and nothing came out. The pen was dry. Ross growled and opened his desk drawer, grabbing a new pen. As he was about to close the drawer, something caught his eye - an envelope, sealed with purple wax, at the bottom of the drawer.
"Wassat?" he mumbled, digging into the drawer to grab the envelope. Retrieving it, he noticed a fancy pattern stamped into the wax. All of a sudden, a memory came flooding back to him.
'There will come a day when you feel yourself being crushed by the burden of modern life, and your bright spirit will fade before a growing emptiness. When that happens, my boy...you'll be ready for this gift.'
Who had that been? Oh. Yeah.
'Now, let Grandpa rest…'
It had been four...no, five years now, since Grandpa Abraham had passed away. He'd given Ross the envelope and then up and died pretty much instantly. It was probably the biggest shock Ross had ever been given. Granddad and his farm were a mainstay of Ross's summers as a kid. And like an idiot, he'd gone and forgotten about the letter. The last thing Grandpa had given him.
"How bad of a grandson am I, eh, Granddad?" He muttered. As if he wasn't already feeling shitty enough.
"...your bright spirit will fade before a growing emptiness…"
Ross's spirit was long beyond being faded at this point. It was more like someone had taken his spirit behind the shed and put two in the back of its head. So, with no hesitation, he popped the seal off the envelope and pulled out its contents.
A short note, a small certificate and a little scrap of paper were inside. Hands shaking, he unfolded the note first and began to read.
'Dear Ross,
If you're reading this, you must be in dire need of a change.
The same thing happened to me, long ago. I'd lost sight of what mattered most in life...real connections with other people and nature. So I dropped everything and moved to the place I truly belong.
I've enclosed the deed to that place...my pride and joy. My farm, in Stardew Valley, on the southern coast. It's the perfect place to start your new life.
This was my most precious gift of all, and now it's yours. I know you'll honor the family name, my boy. Good Luck.
P.S. If Lewis is still alive, say hi to the old guy for me, will ya?'
Grandpa Abraham
The small scrap of paper had a phone number on it, with the words "Mayor Lewis" written next to it.
Ross leaned back in the chair, not quite believing what he had just read. His escape had been right here? In the drawer, this whole time? And he'd forgotten about it? He checked the small certificate. Property rights to Green Engine Farm, Pelican Town, Stardew Valley.
He stood bold upright and shouted several obscenities. The entire office poked their heads out of their cubicles like prairie dogs, staring at the young hooligan causing a ruckus.
Ross plopped back down in his chair, a grin spreading from ear to ear. Now that he was about to be fired for his swearing fit, there wasn't even anything keeping him here in Zuzu City anymore, except his dad-
Oh, right. Dad. Oh, well. That could come later. Right now, he was on Cloud Nine. It was time to get out of this wretched place.
James's office door opened as Ross stood up again. James yelled "Ross, what the hell are you-"
Ross ran over to James and glomped him in a bear hug. "Fire me, James. I'm outta here!"
"W-what?" Yelped James. "I can't just-"
"Fire me? Sure you can!" Ross took James's coffee out of his hand and emptied it into a nearby printer. He then took a marker and started scribbling on the wall, getting halfway through a large image of a middle finger before James grabbed the marker away. "Destruction of property and vandalism. Clear as day, right?"
James's face was the color of an eggplant. "What - the hell - is going on, Ross?" He asked, very quietly.
Ross showed him the letter. James took a minute to read it, and then looked at Ross in disbelief.
"Wouldn't ya know it? I don't have to perform sexual favors on you to get out of here after all! I'm free, James, free as a damn bird!"
He kicked over a trashcan for good measure, and then sped off towards the elevator. The door closed, and the most interesting thing to ever happen on the 22nd floor of Joja Corp. was over.
James stood still for a second or two, trying to process what had just happened. He couldn't help but secretly root for the kid, despite his more troublesome tendencies. Still, he couldn't imagine Ross's father would be too happy about what had just transpired.
After a moment more, he sighed and retreated back into his office. The Kid was in Yoba's hands now.
Ross had to resist the urge to hoot and holler the whole bus ride home. His mind was kicking into overdrive, the lazy fog that usually clouded it now entirely absent. There was so much he had to do, and he wanted to do it as quickly as possible.
As he got back to his flat, he looked around the concrete jungle that enveloped him, suffocated him. He had lived in Zuzu City his entire life, but it had never felt like home. Driving along the highway, or walking downtown, the skyscrapers often made him feel as if he were being buried alive.
That was nothing compared to his flat, though. It was as well-equipped as a coffin and about the same size as one, too. He had a toaster, though. And a sink. It smelled of cheese and the landlady was really mean. He definitely wasn't going to miss this place, either.
Ross scratched his head as he looked around his abode. He didn't really have anything to pack up, now that he was getting out of here. No pets or girlfriend to relocate, and no either. In the back of his mind, he was seriously contemplating just packing up his clothing and leaving in the dead of night like a phantom, never to be seen again.
'Well, first thing's first. I'd better call Mayor Lewis and see if he can tell me anything.'
Ross remembered Mayor Lewis a little bit. It had been a good few years seen he'd seen him, at any rate - not since he was 9 or 10. He remembered Lewis as a friendly, kind guy, with a deep voice and a booming laugh.
Ross dug his cellphone out of his pocket, dialed the number on the scrap of paper and flopped down on the couch.
After a few rings, a gruff voice came over the phone. "Hello, Lewis speaking."
Ross was a little surprised. He'd been half-expecting no one to answer. The voice was definitely Lewis's, though. "Hi. Uh, this is Ross Ryan."
There was silence on the other end for a moment. "Who?"
"Ross Ryan. Uh, Abraham's grandson."
There was a shuffling sound on the other end of the line. Someone in the background asked "Who is it?" and Lewis responded with something Ross couldn't hear. After a second, Lewis cleared his throat and said "Yes, of course. I remember you now. What can I do for you, Ross?"
"Uh…" Ross did his best to explain the events of the morning, excluding the misdemeanors he'd committed. Coming from his own mouth, it all sounded bizarre. His story was all over the place. He hoped Lewis was keeping up with it.
"So…" he finished. "I'd like to take him up on his offer. To come take care of the farm for him."
Another long silence. "I see. That...is wonderful news, Ross!"
Ross hadn't been expecting such an enthusiastic response. "Is it?"
"Yes, of course," Lewis practically shouted. The old guy sounded happy, that was for sure. "We have to make some preparations for your arrival, but...oh, it'll be wonderful to have a farmer in Pelican Town again."
"I...I'm glad you think so," Ross said, grinning a little. "I need to prepare myself as well, though Yoba knows there's nothing really keeping me here anymore."
Lewis chuckled. "Well, I can imagine. If you're willing to leave your whole life behind to start anew as a farmer…still, it has been a bother. Since the deed to the farm was in your possession this whole time, we haven't been able to move a new farmer in for...five years now. Your grandfather sure didn't make it easy on me, Yoba rest his soul…"
"So when can I move in?" Ross asked, now bouncing off the couch in excitement.
"Well, let's see...The property is a real mess. We'll have to get the old farmhouse tidied up, and some of the brush on the farm cleared away...If you can wait until Friday, we should be able to get everything done."
Ross was giddy. "Friday. Okay. I'll be ready and on the bus down to Stardew Valley on Friday." 'Friday. My life begins on Friday.'
"One more thing. We'll have someone ready to help you get started and maybe even work as a farmhand for you. She's been living on the property for about a year now, so she knows her way around the place."
Ross scratched his head. "Alright. What's her name?"
"Serena. My Granddaughter. It's high time she got some work, anyways."
Ross thanked Lewis happily and said goodbye. Everything was coming up Ross today. Although, glancing at his phone again, his lucky streak was probably about to come to an end. His fingers hovered over the buttons that would call his dad.
It was 100% certain that Dad wouldn't approve of what he was going to do, and in all likelihood he would try to stop Ross from doing it. Dad saw Ross following in the footsteps of his old man and becoming a Joja Vice-President, not gallivanting off to Stardew Valley to take over his grandfather's dilapidated farm.
'You have to tell him,' Ross said to himself.
'Why?' said a voice in his head.
'Good point.' A wicked grin spread across Ross's face. He'd have to tell Dad at some point. But maybe that point could be after he had left town, not before. With any luck, he wouldn't find out about the outburst this morning…
No. That wasn't gonna happen. In fact, he'd probably already found out about it, and that meant Ross couldn't stay here. Dad would find him. So he had to get packing and get out of his home as soon as he could.
Stepping into the bathroom to wash his face, Ross caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. On the surface, he looked the same as ever. The same Wavy brown hair which he liked to sweep over to the left. Same pale skin - too pale, most people would say. Same soft, boyish facial features - Attractive, but cute rather than handsome. Most people thought he was younger than he really was. Same overall build, which he would have liked to call wiry but was probably much closer to feeble. Ross had looked in this mirror every day for three years, but something caught him off today. That spark - that mischievous glint behind his eyes, which he'd watched slowly disappear for the last 3 years - just a little bit of it was peeking through.
Ross smiled to himself and stepped out of the bathroom, grabbing some boxes to start packing.