Disclaimer: I am not associated with the makers of the Harvest Moon franchise or their affiliates. This is a fan-made, fictional, non-profit story written for the entertainment of others. And to maybe see a lesson or two between the words.

This is probably the most realistic thing I will ever write. It's something I've wanted to do, but I've been too busy to try, so this was written in its entirety off of the internet on my own time. That means updates will come routinely every other day or so. No long-awaited updating! Yay!

As a quick warning, I don't hold back on language. It's not a rapid fire thing – it's not in every chapter. When things get heated between characters though, don't get too surprised to see some upper level curses. Or just some characters in particular have shallow vocabulary. So no kiddies! (If you're into censoring but hey, whatever.)

Protagonist is Molly because we're once again in the Animal Parade universe. I swear I can't escape it. I love it too much.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy. :)

Chapter One
Tuesday, Fall 17th

Fall leaves tumbled across the cobblestones under the farmer's feet. She tugged at her pink party dress, holding it against the strong wind. Her hair was chaos after her long walk from her farm; the brown waves smacking her every which way and getting stuck to her wet, painted lips. In short, she was a right proper mess for her most important debut to date.

Molly jingled the keys to her house in her hand from nerves. She stood before the big doors to the Brass Bar, the sun rippling down in rays through the fast passing clouds. Biting her lip, the brunette could hear the raucous laughter of men inside. Of course, she'd have to get through them to get to the back… but it wasn't something she was looking forward to.

Stop being such a sissy! She scolded herself, clenching a fist with determination. No one's going to say anything… Just keep your head down and find Kathy…

Molly was about to push the door open when she should have pulled, and it came straight at her. The irritable, peach-haired chef stumbled at the sight of her. He skirted around her since Molly was frozen with surprise at almost being struck.

"Sorry," he muttered, easily dodging her and digging in his pockets. Molly heard the strike of a lighter and turned her head, watching as the man in the white dress shirt struggled to light a cigarette against the wind.

Realizing she looked ridiculous and she was still holding her stupid keys, she jammed them into her shoulder bag and caught the door before it closed. Taking a deep breath – the noise inside already doubled in volume – she took a tentative step inside.

Drinks were splashing around and all the men in town were clapping a brawny guy on the shoulder. They were all dressed for a formal party, but jackets had already been discarded and ties hung loose about their necks. Sleeves were rolled up and alcohol was in hand.

Of course, this was the bachelor party for Owen. He would be a married man by the end of the weekend, so it was the last 'hoorah.' Molly wasn't interested in this party at all. This party was loud and scary and people would—

Molly was suddenly shoved to the side. She became stiff. The offending man was quick to turn around and see who he accidentally backed into. He was tall with grey shaggy hair and a long pointed nose. Owen's grand-father. "Sorry about that. Just comin' in?"

"Um, yeah," Molly's tiny voice answered. "Where's Kathy?"

"Girl party is in the back," he pointed one of his wrinkled thumbs over his shoulder.

"Thanks, sir," Molly nodded, quickly taking his direction.

She twisted and curved her way through the thick crowd of black pants and hearty laughter. A boy named Luke from the Carpenter's shop nearly spilled his drink on her. He was just as clumsy as she was, so it wasn't a surprise. Still, he apologized, and Molly quickly made her way through. The journey felt much longer than it was. By the time she reached the door to the back room, Molly just knew she was sweating already.

Molly opened the old door and closed it quickly behind her. Almost immediately, the outside was muted and gone. In here, there was country music in the background and girlish chatter. Someone laughed a little too loud, but it was quick to end. A buffet table of food was spread out against one wall and all the furniture that was normally in the room was cleared away so rickety metal chairs could replace it. Women occupied these, holding Dixie cups of punch, milk, and water.

Of course, no alcohol was permitted at Kathy's bachelorette party. Though the waitress was known to love cocktails and appreciate a fine wine, everyone also knew that she was a good season pregnant. It was really starting to show now, and all of the women in town were cooing over her.

Ending her observations of the room, Molly shifted her feet awkwardly at the door. Kathy caught a glimpse of her and waved. She was chatting with Yolanda and Colleen from the Ocarina Inn, but excused herself so she could greet Molly. Taking Molly's sweaty hand in a generous hand shake, the blonde held a cup of water in the other and wore a large grin on her face. "Well, hey, Molly! Thought you'd never make it! Glad you came."

Molly smiled, feeling very self-conscious of her sweaty hand that was still gripped in Kathy's. "It's a very nice party, Kathy. Congratulations, too."

Molly's hand was finally freed. Kathy nodding knowingly, swaying the blonde ponytail at the top of her head. She looked down at the bump of her stomach. "Thanks! It's so bizarre, you know? I never thought I'd be a mother so soon… But it's really great. No regrets!"

The farmer envied the girl's beauty and confidence, but it was in an admiring way - not bitter. "Um… any names yet?"

"Oh, hundreds!" Kathy rolled her eyes. "Everyone and their mother has a suggestion – literally! I actually set up a box over in the corner there, see?" Molly nodded appropriately, catching sight of the small cardboard box on the table by the drinks. "People can just write down names they like on some paper and toss 'em in the box. I figured that Owen and I could go through them later, you know? Could make it fun!"

Molly smiled again. "That's a good idea! I might try it…"

"I'll save you some time – no flower names. Can't stomach them," Kathy confided, pointedly looking at Ruth, the woman from Marimba Farm. In a lower voice, she said: "I mean, I know they're farmers and all, but if they say 'Daisy' or 'Pansy' again, I think the kid's going to throw up inside of me."

Molly laughed, feeling a bit more at home with her humor. "Well, I promise not to suggest any produce. Or anything I might name a cow."

Kathy laughed and patted Molly on the back. "Looking forward to what you have in mind! Okay, see you around, Molly. Have fun!"

As soon as she came by with her small talk, Kathy had left to go find more small talk. Molly was slightly exhausted just watching her repeating the same things, straining to have the biggest smile all day… Hosting parties was difficult.

Timidly, Molly looked towards the food and decided she wasn't hungry enough for any of the heavy potato or bread dishes. She inched her way to the other end of the room, waving back when Renee spotted her. Molly stopped by the desserts, her weakness, and snatched a sugar cookie. She munched on it as she passed the drink table. The box of names sat there with a thin slot at the top. Molly could see folded papers in the light at the top. It was nearly full. Just like Castanet to be full of opinions.

Shaking her head, she finished her cookie and stooped over the table. She grabbed a stray pencil and one of the slips of paper, hastily scribbling down her answer and folding it. Molly slipped the paper in the slot and smacked it to make it go down.

There, that was done. Now… what to do?

There was an empty chair next to the islanders Sue and her daughter Selena, but Molly wouldn't know what to talk to them about. She had never visited their home on Toucan Island, and she only knew who they were by name and appearance. It would be rather awkward to introduce herself after three years… Besides, Selena intimidated her. The dancer was beautiful – gifted with red hair against her sun-kissed skin. Selena was exotic and interesting and alluring. But at the moment, she was sitting next to her mother, slouched in her seat and huffily eyeing her nails. She didn't appear happy to be at a tame 'girl' party. She would probably be happier in the other room. And the other room was terrifying for someone as quiet and reserved as Molly the farmer.

Molly's eyes roved and spotted Maya. She was the wife of the man who nearly hit her with the door – Chase was his name. Their daughter Dakota was a plucky ginger haired girl of two who was struggling in her mother's lap. She reached for the desserts table, whining and pulling. Maya easily ignored her child's demands (for no doubt, more dessert than she deserved) and talked easily on with the girls of the farming families, Anissa and Renee. They would be easy to get along with; in fact, they were really the only people Molly ever talked to. But it was rather crowded where they sat in the corner, and Molly didn't feel like fighting just to stand in a cramped space.

Letting out a sigh, Molly turned to grab some punch. Filling one of the Dixie cups, someone surprised her with a tap on the shoulder.

"Where've you been hiding?" The woman asked.

Spinning around with a smile, Molly said: "I just got here!"

"Running late then – as usual," Luna grinned mischievously – her signature look. The farmer wasn't quite sure how she befriended this outgoing, rather rude seamstress, but since the beginning of her farming days here on the peninsula, Molly had found herself drawn to her. Luna was loud and she spoke her mind, but she was incredibly intelligent and suave. Not to mention she had those famous pink pigtails of lovely hair, always adorned childishly with flowers. She was everything Molly was not or was afraid to be.

Luna took her friend's cup and sipped some punch before handing it back. Molly asked: "Where's your sister?"

"Candace is off hiding, I imagine. I thought I'd find her when I found you – you're both not overly fond of parties, if I remember. And I always remember," Luna bragged, looking around the room on her tip toes.

Molly chuckled. Luna's sister was quite a bit like Molly, but she was much more timid. Where Molly would force herself into these sorts of situations in an effort to become more extroverted and bubbly, Candace would cower and run away. Molly couldn't blame her – these circumstances would usually end with her doing the same. But because of Candace's incurable shyness, Molly had barely seen her since visiting Sonata Tailor's for the first time.

"So did you suggest a name yet?" Luna asked casually, still looking about.

"Maybe. Did you?" Molly sipped from her cup.

"Pfft!" Luna immediately retorted. Very typical of Luna – she thought she knew better than everyone else. What made it even more frustrating was that… it was often true. "What are they thinking? Some sort of raffle to name their child? It's ridiculous!"

"Oh, I didn't think of it that way," Molly said. "I thought it was a good way to organize all the ideas. And that way, the couple can quietly go over them later, you know? They're not… forced to name him or her anything they find in that box."

Luna was quiet for a moment before she turned to Molly and crossed her arms. "That's what you put in the box, isn't it?"

Molly blushed and looked at her emptied Dixie cup. "Maybe…"

Luna laughed and rolled her eyes. "Just like you to give advice and encouragement instead of a simple name like everyone else. You're absolutely too good, Molly. Too good for your own good."

"Stop it!" Molly denied. "I just… wanted them to see it and smile… Know someone's on their side, you know? Oh… but I guess it is pretty stupid… I'd better take it out!"

Luna caught her friend by the sleeve of her dress before she could whirl around. "Oh, no you don't! You've made your choice – what's done is done! Besides, it's not stupid. It's just… Molly being Molly."

"Thanks for referring to me in the third person," Molly quipped, tossing her cup in the rubbish bin.

The girl with the red dress shrugged her slim shoulders. She spun her head and looked at Molly strangely.

Panicking under Luna's gaze, Molly lifted her hand to her cheek. "What?"

Luna squinted and poked Molly's face. "There. Your eyeliner is smudging."

"Oh, dear," Molly fussed, quickly wiping at her eyes. "Just my luck! Is it gone?"

"Uh, no. You just made it a thousand times worse," Luna told her flatly.

"What do I do?! Help me fix it!" Molly begged, instantly turning to face the wall.

"Take a chill pill and go to the bathroom to see for yourself," Luna suggested. She suddenly grinned, having spotted her sister. "Aha! I didn't see her by that bookshelf! Looks like she's reading… Ugh!"

Molly was still rubbing at her face, making it decidedly worse. Luna put a hand on her arm. "Look, it's no big deal. It just… looks like you're crying out the sides of your face."

"Luna!" Molly wailed.

"Just go see for yourself! It's no big deal!" Luna repeated and spun her friend around in the right direction. "You've been here before – the bathroom's that way. Go on, raccoon eyes!"

Eyes to the ground, Molly marched off under Luna's orders. She dodged women, muttering her apologies, desperate to hide whatever horror her face was. Her feet finally found the door, and she jerked it open. Gripping her handbag tight to her side, Molly's ears were assaulted by the boisterous male party again. Sliding along the wall, Molly made her way to the unisex bathroom located on the opposite end of the stage. Hopping up onto the small rise, Molly dashed across and landed neatly on the wood floor. Thanking any and every deity she wasn't spotted, she pulled the bathroom door open and squeezed inside—

"Hey, Molly, are you okay?" A man's voice asked.

Hell.

Ozzie. The fisherman. Toby's uncle. He was without his straw hat, so Molly didn't recognize him at first. The tight tan wrinkles by his eyes looked concerned.

"I'm fine," Molly answered. "Just a little make-up… mishap."

"Oh, okay!" The older man smiled wide, showing off straight yellow teeth. "Just looks like you were crying. Thought something was wrong!"

Molly laughed it off, shaking her head. She finally slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Safe at last.

The bathroom was completely silent. There was only the slight muffle of the noise coming from outside the door and the click of her high-heeled shoes against the tiles. The first thing she did was take her shoes off – they were killing her ankles. Molly didn't know how women did it, honestly. It was hard enough to keep balance and walk at a normal pace, but the added factor of pain was completely too much for her. She pulled them off, the straps protesting around her heels, and tossed them underneath one of the two sinks. With a quick look underneath the only two stalls, Molly found herself completely alone.

Going to the mirror over the sink, Molly let out a small groan. Molly never wore make-up. Never. She didn't know the first things about applying it or how to use it effectively. So when she decided she'd doll herself up for this party, actually trying to look like a grown up woman for once, she hadn't any clue what she was doing. So she spent a small fortune and bought one of each of the cosmetics the General Store offered and experimented. In case something would go wrong (because she just knew it would), she carried them in her purse. All of them.

Tossing her purse in the sink, she zipped it open and looked into the sea of sticks, balms, and brushes. The strap was still around her shoulder, so she grumbled and twisted out of it. Digging through, she tried to find the eyeliner she had finally chosen to use that day. From what she remembered, it was a thick pencil of some kind, but half of them fit that description. Why didn't she label it somehow? Or, hey – crazy thought – just bring that one? But what if it looked funny? She would have to just deal with it…? Why was she so bad at this?!

Her first order of business was to get rid of the stuff she had on. Ripping some paper towel, she attempted to rub it away. It didn't work so well, so she dabbed the paper under the sink, getting it slightly wet. Some water dripped into her purse that was under the faucet, but she didn't notice. Trying again, Molly successfully wiped most of the black streaks from her cheeks, but the smudges left behind didn't seem to want to go anywhere and the rough paper towel started to burn.

Molly pitched it and turned back to the mirror. Her reflection was a terrible sight. She had the dark smudges of make-up she couldn't remove, her hair was still wind whipped, and her features were clearly plain even underneath the make-up she still had on. Molly forced a distraught smile. Good enough? She held her face in her hands.

The door suddenly opened, and the sound came screaming in before the door swung shut. Panicked, Molly hastily dug through her bag, making it look like she was busy. She didn't dare look up as the person went to the sink next to her and started washing their hands. They were completely silent, and Molly was glad they were mercifully leaving her alone. She heard them rip the paper towel and dry their hands. When she thought she'd be alone again, the door didn't open.

Molly chanced a peek and saw a man with a large violet striped coat. It had faux fur on the bottom (that was well below his knees), and more fur on the collar. A long stripe of brightly dyed pink hair hung down his back. When more layers entered his hair, it grew increasingly purple with streaks of yellow and pink and blue thrown haphazardly in. He was staring at his angular features in the mirror, wearing more make-up than Molly was and more skilled with the craft to make it look good on him.

Castanet wasn't a big place, so Molly was surprised that she had never seen him before. Then again, she had never really introduced herself like the Mayor Hamilton urged her to do. She just wasn't… the type. But still, she knew almost everybody, having run into them at one time or another. And Molly was sure she would have remembered meeting this guy if she had.

His eyes slid towards Molly's reflection in the mirror staring at him, and she quickly looked back into her purse. Molly's eyes quivered with pin pricks of tears threatening to embarrass her further. She was so stupid and pathetic and she looked a frightful mess and now she was staring!

To her surprise, one of his pale hands reached across into her purse. She just stared as he took out a small brown stick of eye liner. He held it out to her. "This one."

Molly took it, not able to say so much as a thank you. She was sure her arm only moved to take it because it was afraid of making her look any dumber. She glanced up, her fingers wrapped tightly around the pencil. Their eyes locked for a split second before she broke the contact. His eyes were a deep maroon color – so brown they were almost a shade of red, but they were friendly. The man gave her a small smirk, but it felt like it was more of him smirking to himself and Molly happened to see it. Like he was having his own private joke – like he knew exactly what she was all about in this tiny bathroom in the bar. But it wasn't mean. She almost wanted to smile back, but she was numb with shock.

He didn't say anything either, and he and his knowing smirk were soon gone. Molly's head buzzed from the noise of Owen's bachelor party before the door closed again. She looked at the eye liner in her hand curiously.