Things always come in threes.

After the trudging walk back up to the farm, it took about five hours to clear out branches, move stones off the soil, and the saddest part: cutting down all the dead stalks of corn. The sun, the delightful little spot of glowing yellow in the sky burning my skin, was finally starting its decline into the sea. Slowly dragging the humidity and suffocating atmosphere that hung in the air with it.

Gazing at it now was more of a relief than the intense regret it was earlier. The sky looked like strawberry and orange sherbet melting together, at the very least a thousand times prettier than the smog covered skyscape of the city.

Regret did come, however, in the realization of just how hard I'd been working for the past few hours. Now that everything was done, and I hadn't moved from my spot in the middle of the freshly tilled field, every muscle used decided to scream at me. Just the thought of lifting my arm enough to let my hoe fall to the ground hurt. Stubbornness was one of my better personality traits, thankfully, allowing my mind to convince the rest of me to drop the hoe, toss my shoes toward the porch, and hobble over to the little landing that stretched out over the pond. Submerging my feet in the water was like instant relief. I could still feel my heartbeat in them, but at least the burning sensation was beginning to subside. Finally, I could slouch a little and relax.

Another ignorance I had moved to Castanet with was thinking it would be a quick and painless transition from average work out twice a week to a daily one.

Oh, how wrong I was.

Mostly because this whole farming thing wasn't just a workout you did for three hours and then headed home. No, it kicked your ass for more than three hours. Nor was there air conditioning or power fans I'd gotten used to in my old apartment gym… Honestly, I wasn't sure how some of the guys here managed to not die of a heat stroke.

I figured, Luke had it a little easier working in the forest all day. Shade was a literal life saver, dropping the temperature outside some days a good fifteen degrees. Then again, from the first time I met him, I swore he ran day to day on pure excitement alone. What exactly he was always so excited about? No clue.

Maybe it was just being alive with minimal responsibility.

Nothing I'd know anything about.

Owen, on the other hand, was simply a badass. Seriously, he rocked the fire engine red hair and scarf thing. Buff as all get out, too, but I supposed lugging rocks and a giant hammer around all day would do that to someone... When I'd asked him how he did it all I got was a shrug. A 'you get used to it,' and a heart melting chuckle. I could barely stand working outside in the heat, yet he spent nearly every day down in the mines.

But thankfully, I wasn't the only twiggy guy on the island. There was still Chase, who avoided any kind of conversation with anyone past exchanging pleasantries. A quiet guy that spent most of his time fishing… his name always escapes me, but then again I don't think he's ever actually told me what it was.

And then, there was Julius.

Now, in bustling cities, you see a lot of different people. In large university campuses even, you'll see it all on your way from one building to the next, in libraries, food courts, bathrooms. They catch your attention with outrageous hair, or clothing. Make you double take to figure out if they're a guy or girl, and then just confuse you the more you think about it.

Julius was one of those people, confusing, and unapologetically himself. The day I met him, I was absolutely certain it was a her. Flamboyance greater than I'd ever personally come into contact with convinced me he bat for the other team when I'd realized the lavender haired assistant was a man. The best part, though, was what he said to me when all the confusion was clear. It was shameless, and shockingly straightforward.

'If I was you'd be more my type than any other man in this little town.'

I decided then, in the awkwardness that made me silent for a moment, to take it as a compliment. Until that is, he proceeded to tell me I desperately needed hair conditioner and then a decent hair cut. That much, I didn't take as a compliment. Especially since it was actually one of the few days I had looked in the mirror and not been horrified at my own appearance.

All that set aside though, he was a fairly decent person. Mira, the woman who owned the accessory shop up in Garmon, was his primary concern in the brief conversation we'd had. I couldn't tell exactly what their relationship was, but it was easy to see his care was genuine.

She'd lost her husband, and along with him her motivation to do anything. A rough sight for anyone to watch a loved one go through. I knew the pain on both sides. Enough to sit and talk with the woman a few days in a row at Celesta Church on Julius' request. He figured, and it made sense, since I was new it'd be easier for her to talk to me. An unbiased, clueless person to confide in.

At first, she was understandably guarded. So the mosaics, old hymn books in the front pocket of the pews and the like are what we talked about. She seemed fond about the church grounds, even told me a story about how as a young woman she used to bring in orange candy for everyone. It became a sort of tradition, apparently, considering I'd noted a jar of them on a table in the entryway once.

I tread into the deeper waters once, and to my surprise she was instantly a fraction of a second away from angry tears just by my asking if she'd like to talk about her husband. I knew though, that was the moment you stuck around. Let them yell and holler at you so it doesn't fester further in their chest. All I did was offer reassurance, and she was loud. For all of a moment, she caught herself swiftly, though a single snap of pain flashed in her eyes.

Like I had ripped a bandaid off without warning.

Then she softened again. And then the river flowed. She told me about some of the things she'd always wanted to do or say, and simply thought there'd be the time to say and do those things. Silent, and sympathetic, I merely nodded along with her. Made eye contact when she sought it out, but for a moment she fell quiet.

I had assumed it was for collecting herself, that assumption lowered my guard enough for her words to cut straight through me.

'People are often stronger than they look,' she'd said. Words so clear, so specifically chosen that they still made my heart sink, even as the cool water I swished my feet in helped me relax. 'Life may bring them down, but they get up again.'

And at the end of the day, walking back to the small cottage I now called home, that's exactly what I was going to do. Stood on the porch, I looked over what I had left. Some onions had made it through the chaos, at the very least I could get some cash for more seeds. Start over again, third time's the charm. Right..?

Alas, my dazey inspiration as the sun set was interrupted by an enthusiastic hearty laugh, however.

All things come in threes, I thought, hoping that when I turned and forced a polite smile it would be a much shorter third interruption of my day. Honestly, he'd passed while going down to the bar without a word, I'd hoped it would be the same on the way back.

"Damn dude," Owen seemed surprised, looking from one side of my field to the other, and all the piles of disappointment, rocks, and wood that were present. "Got that all cleared in one day, you got more will power in you than I thought.

My face said so much, voicing my lack of amusement wasn't necessary.

"Sorry, sorry. Probably not the best compliment." Embarrassment was swallowed and cleared from his throat, eyes averted and hands shoved into pockets. Classic jock, right out of TV dramas.

"I'll try to take it as one."

"It, was meant as one so… Yeah- anyway." A hand clapped down against his thigh in a fidget as he backed up toward Garmon. It drew my attention for a second before I squinted back up at him. He kept talking, even as he withdrew further and further up the mountain road. "Summer festival's tomorrow, by the way. Don't know if anyone told you, but uh… There's contests, and stuff. Fireworks at the end and all, you should come out. It'll be fun!"

"Yeah… maybe!" I was the opposite of enthusiastic, but with the distance he'd created, I had to at least raise my voice to be heard.

'It'll be fun!'

Ah yes, fun. Like getting blackout drunk was supposed to be on Luke's birthday. If I did muster the social energy to go, drinking with those guys was for sure something I would never, ever do again.

Welp. One day I'll learn how to upload these without code going bonkers.