A/N: I've become obsessed with Stardew Valley in the last month. So much so that I just had to write something for it. This isn't my best work and god knows where it's going or if it'll be continued. So, if you're enjoying it drop me a review because I know for sure I'll lose motivation if I think nobody is reading it.

One

The farm was in a state of disarray. Rebekah eyeballed the scattering of rocks and overgrowth of weeds and trees, some felled, some standing tall and proud. This was a disaster. What the hell had she been thinking?

As instructed, she had opened the letter from her grandfather over a year ago now, when her job at Joja corporation had been crushing her soul like a can of its most popular fizzy drink but being a farmer had been the last thing on her mind back then. She had quit her job and tried to make something of herself that didn't involve harvesting crops and milking cows. Then her life had gone to shit and she had done what she did best and run away. She hadn't thought it through, she never did. The farm was hers, empty and waiting and the call of a quiet town away from everything she wanted to escape had been strong. Now that she was here, staring at the dilapidated farm, she was having serious regrets. If it wasn't for the fact that the old bus had broken down upon arrival, Rebekah would have probably turned on her heel and got right back on it and as far away from Stardew Valley as she possibly could. See, running away really was what she did best.

"You're an idiot, Reb, but you're here now," she said aloud to herself, rolling up her sleeves. It would only be as bad as she let it be and she was determined that it wouldn't be bad at all. She had this. She'd helped her grandfather out on the farm plenty as a child, it couldn't be that difficult. She just had to work at it. If she'd managed to stay at Joja Corp for six years then she could do just about any-damn-thing! She'd tackle the house first, scrub it until it was spotless and worry about the farm later.

Taking the jangling keys from her pocket, she unlocked the front door and instantly wished she hadn't. The musty smell of abandonment hit her hard in the face and, when she could breathe, she saw the dust. Dust everywhere. Cobwebs too. This day had only just begun and she already wished it over. She'd had a bloody long bus journey, her stomach churning the entire way. She'd – foolishly – expected to arrive to an almost habitable farm and be able to kick back with a bottle of wine and a takeaway on her first night in Pelican Town. Instead, it was looking likely that she'd be scrubbing until the early hours of the morning.

Rooting through the kitchen cupboards, she found a half bottle of disinfectant and a duster. In the pantry she found a filthy mop and bucket. It wasn't ideal but it was better than nothing. She could go to the shops later but, for now, she'd make do with what she had.

Throwing open every window in the house – she was glad for the warm spring weather – Rebekah got to work. She polished every surface, destroyed every web and then mopped every creaky wooden floorboard. With difficulty, she manoeuvred the old double mattress outside and batted at it furiously, vowing that a new one would be one of the first items she'd buy.

Eventually, sweaty and red faced, Rebekah decided that enough was enough. The place looked okay. Sure it was a little empty and could use a fresh lick of paint but at least it was clean. It hadn't taken as long as she'd expected, either. She looked at her watch, it was 5PM. Her stomach rumbled loudly.

Carrying her abandoned luggage from the porch and into the house, Rebekah jumped into the shower, washing the sweat and cobwebs away. She changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a chequered shirt and pulled a comb through her shoulder length still wet red hair. She wouldn't win any beauty contests but she looked presentable enough. It wasn't as if she needed to look good anyway, a relationship was the last thing on her mind right now. There had been days when she had spent hours perfecting her makeup and hair before going for nights out but those days were long behind her. Now she just wanted to be the quiet farmer girl in the strange new town. She didn't want to be noticed. She just wanted to left alone.

The walk into town wasn't a long one. She stared longingly at the abandoned bus as she passed it and entered the town near the doctors surgery. She felt relief wash over her at the sight of it. She wasn't sure she was cut out of the life of a farmer, really. She'd probably end up there almost daily with one injury or another: collapsing from exhaustion, almost cutting off her hands with axes, the list was almost endless… She tried not to think about the bloodbath her clumsy self was capable of as she ambled through the town, following her nose as she caught the scent of hot food.

The Stardrop Saloon fell quiet as she entered and Rebekah rubbed at her arms nervously. The towns people must have known she was coming, right? She'd spoken to the mayor himself. Larry, was it? Lincoln? Lewis! Lewis, that was it. Feeling her cheeks warm under the stares, Rebekah made her way to the bar and took a seat.

"You must be the new owner over at the old Mason farm, right?" It was the bartender who spoke, a man in his forties with a round face and a large moustache.

"Yeah, Mason was my Grandfather."

"Good man, he was. Sorry to hear he passed. Name's Gus."

"Hi Gus." Rebekah glanced over her shoulder self consciously feeling as if everyone were still staring at her. It was just paranoia. Now that she was seated everyone had resumed their conversations.

"So, you have a name?" Gus asked, smiling pleasantly. Rebekah turned back to him.

"It's Rebekah but people call me Reb."

"I bet that old farm was a tip, you had any luck clearing it out? I'm sure some of the locals would be happy to lend a hand."

"That's kind but I'll manage. What's good to eat here?" She wasn't really in the mood for making polite conversation with strangers. It had been a long day. She just wanted to eat in peace.

"Tell you what, as a welcome gift why don't I fry you up a nice steak? You eat steak, right?"

Rebekah laughed. "I eat steak." Okay, she probably should be a bit nicer if she was going to be offered free food. Being from a big city, she wasn't used to this kind of hospitality. "That would be great, thank you so much!" Pulling out her purse she added, "Can I get a glass of wine too? White, whatever's cheapest." She frowned as she looked through her purse.

The glass of wine Gus placed in front of her was definitely not from his cheapest bottle and Rebekah hoped he wasn't being nice out of pity. She had money but a lot of it was tied up in issues she wasn't ready to deal with right now. She was hoping the farm would be her salvation although, now that she knew just how much work needed doing, her hopes were plummeting fast.

As she waited for her meal, Rebekah glanced around the bar. Nearest to her a middle aged blonde woman was zoned out, clearly drunk. A man about her own age sat to her right, nursing a tankard of beer. He had unkept stubble and clothes with holes in. He reminded Rebekah of her current self but, when he caught her staring, she averted her eyes and said nothing.

The steak was good and Rebekah promised to return for her evening meal the following day before heading off into the darkness an hour later, her stomach full. She'd have to be careful with money but eating in the Saloon each night was certainly favourable to her own cooking. She'd never been particularly good at it.

The night was cool and bright, the breeze refreshing. Not ready to go home yet, Rebekah found her way to the beach. It had been one of the reason she had been drawn to Pelican Town, other than the farm that offered her escape. She loved the beach, it brought back happier memories of better times.

Kicking off her shoes, Rebekah walked barefoot right up to the ocean, letting the cool water tickle her toes. She stared off into the distance, thinking. She wondered whether she had made a mistake coming here, it certainly felt like it right now. Then again, it had to be better than what she had left behind. Anything was better than that. She shivered a little into her shirt but it may not have been entirely due to the cool coastal breeze.

"Breathe deeply. Do you notice it? That's the smell of the sea." Almost having a heart attack, Rebekah spun quickly, ready to drop kick whoever it was who'd snuck up on her. "Whoa there, I'm sorry!" The man had long, flowing locks and impressive cheekbones. He smiled sheepishly at her.

"Who are you?" Lowering her foot, Rebekah scowled. What kind of creep snuck up on people and scared them half to death?

"I sincerely apologise for startling you. I saw you from my cabin and you just looked so perfect silhouetted by the ocean that I just had to emerge."

"Excuse me?" Rebekah arched an eyebrow. He wasn't doing himself any favours, that was for sure. He also hadn't answered her question.

"I'm a writer," he said. "Sorry, that wasn't some kind of cheesy line. It's just that I have been struggling with my latest novel and then I saw you and the inspiration just appeared. I had to thank you."

"By sneaking upon on me, huh?"

"I wasn't thinking. I really am ever so sorry."

"It's okay. Just don't do it again."

"Of course," he gave another sheepish smile, "I'm Elliot. You must be the new farmer…?"

"Reb."

"Reb?"

"It's short for Rebekah."

"Ah, nice to meet you then, Reb."

"Sure."

"Well, I see that my presence isn't entirely welcome right now, completely my fault of course. I apologise once more. I shall leave you to it, Reb, I am sure we shall cross paths again soon." Rebekah didn't reply. Elliot smiled at her and turned on his heel, heading back to the cozy cabin further up the beach. She watched him walk wondering if everyone here was as strange as him and, if so, whether that was such a bad thing.

Eventually her teeth began to chatter and her eyes grew heavy. She had a long day ahead of her in the morning and she certainly wasn't doing herself any favours by staying up past midnight.

Leaving the beach, she took a left, navigating solely from her childhood memories of visiting her grandfather. She had a vague memory of some kind of farm below Mason's and, sure enough, there it was. Leaning against the fence, talking to the cows was the man from the bar, the one who'd reminded her of herself. He held a six pack of wine and, judging from his slurred monologue to the cow he was apparently wooing, he was drunk out of his mind. Ducking her head, Rebekah quickened her pace as she passed him. He stopped talking to the cow and she felt his eyes burning into her as she passed but she didn't turn nor slow down. She was out of breath when she reached the old farm house and locked the door behind her.