"Watch the basin drain as your life lines wane,

And you can't explain as your friends complain.

You've caused all this pain,

As you proudly shame,

Your whole family's name..."

Passion Pit

Sunday, April 14th, Year 1

The sound of tip-tippa-tapping against the bricks of the roof above him rocks Shane gently from sleep.

Blinking, Shane rubs a hand over his jaw, feeling the stubble against his palm. He looks over at his alarm clock, initially startled when he sees the numbers 11:48 AM staring back at him. But the panic is short-lived as he reminds himself of the reality of the weekend. Truly a luxury of the highest caliber; Shane is lucky enough to have weekends off, which is something precious in the service industry. Tomorrow will be another story, but that is future Shane's problem. Now is the time to relax and recover from the week.

That should be an easy task, but the effects of the previous night are making themselves known in the form of a dull headache edging right behind his eyes. Hangovers are a frequent reality for him that he must contend with, but they have been getting more severe as of late in the mornings after his excessive drinking days. Without missing a blink, Shane shuffles in his nightstand, finding his bottle of ibuprofen that he keeps on standby. Painkillers are typically helpful enough, but on some days, his migraines persist until he has his first drink of the day.

But he has only been awake for five minutes at most. Perhaps he ought to hold off, but hey, it is the weekend, after all.

By the time he is showered and ready for the day, he is one fifth deep, and the consequences of the previous night are already being made up for.

While it may be the weekend, he still has some chores to attend to. Running a ranch is no easy task, and Shane knows that his aunt needs a hand in order to keep the business moving along. Luckily, he genuinely does not mind helping her out; it is the very least he can do for all that she has sacrificed for their family, and tending to the animals is a lot more fulfilling than working in retail will ever be. Of course, nothing is ever that simple. If everyone got to do what they loved for a living, then the world would be a perfect place, but that is not the reality that he has come to know. For all of the passion that Marnie has for her livelihood, it is a hard path traveled indeed.

The hens are Shane's responsibility now. When he began to live with Marnie and Jas, his aunt only owned five chickens; since then that number has increased to a dozen. He can tell each one of them apart by the markings on their feathers and the little quirks in their behavior. In addition to keeping the chickens fed and cared for, he'll occasionally assist with maintenance around the farm, though the grange is much older than himself and fairly sturdy despite its age. Meanwhile, Marnie keeps herself busy with her cattle, something that she has been doing for decades and what seems to keep her at her most comfortable.

He readies himself to head out to the henhouse, passing through their kitchen. He is not buzzed in the slightest; the quick morning drink he partook in was just to stave away any headache that might persist in the morning. No telling what will happen later tonight. He finds that Jas is seated at the kitchen table, her hands busied with crayons against paper. She looks up and her face brightens with joy at the sight of him. "Good morning, Uncle Shane!"

"Morning, kiddo." Shane reaches out to muss up her hair. She giggles and ducks away from his hand. It occurs to him that it is hardly morning anymore, but Jas doesn't seem to notice or mind that he's slept so much of the day away. "Drawing?"

Jas gives him a little pout. "Marnie says it's raining a lot, cause' it's spring. I just wish the sun would come out."

Shane does understand his niece's disappointment; she would much rather be exploring outside than cooped up inside on a weekend morning. Jas is homeschooled, but her tutor in town keeps her busy on her school days. From what Shane has gathered, Jas appears to be getting a pretty decent education, perhaps an even better one than he had received in Zuzu's public schools.

Momentarily, he considers asking Jas if she would like to join him in feeding the chickens. She hasn't expressed interest in the prospect before, but he has held out a faint hope that perhaps she would find the task as worthwhile as he does. But he lets the thought pass him by; while coloring with crayons has never been her favorite hobby, he still does not want to pull her away from her fun. Childhood is such a brief time. He wants her to enjoy every little moment of it. He gives Jas a hug before he pulls himself away and heads outside.

He can hear the clucking of the hens before he even opens the door to the henhouse. They like to roam outside when they can, but the rain keeps them firmly indoors; dreary weather appears to zap the spirits of the majority of life on earth. "Morning, ladies," he murmurs to the chickens as he refills their trough; the sound of their clucking is a familiar one to him now, one that brings a smile to his face. He catches sight of his personal favorite of the bunch, Charlie; she had been the first one he had ever seen born, and she seemed to follow him around whenever he is with her in the field. He would have liked to let them out to roam in the yard, but it would have to wait for a sunnier day.

As he is pacing back towards the front door, he hears a call from within the farmhouse. "Shane! Shane, phone!"

He follows the sound of Marnie's voice, his shoulders tensing up as his anticipation rises. Shane does not get phone calls, with the sole exception of one individual. He can see the conclusion written plainly on his aunt's face as he steps back indoors. She holds out the phone to him, the wire's coil hanging as far as it can from the wall. All he can do is shake his head as he holds the phone to his ear as Marnie steps away, for once without a word.

"Good afternoon! I am able to speak with Shane?" It does not take even a millisecond for Shane to recognize the voice and confirm his dreaded suspicions.

"Morris."

"I'm glad I was able to reach you! Sometimes it can be a bit difficult to get a hold of you!" Morris lets out a little artificial laugh, which causes Shane to cringe on the other end of the line. "Happy Sunday to you, as well. How is your weekend treating you?"

If Shane was actually considering answering the question, it would not have mattered, because his manager continues to speak without waiting for a response.

"So, a little snag in my game plan today. Wendy has missed her bus and will not be coming into work. I'm hoping that this will not be a pattern of behavior, but of course, I can't speak for her, now can I?" Again, another question poised and passed over before a response can be given. "Now, if it's not asking too much, would you be able to come in and cover the rest of her shift? We're a bit short-handed over here!"

Shane rubs his temples with his free hand, feeling the last vestiges of his headache creeping behind his eyes. "Morris, I don't work Sundays."

"I understand that your availability is of upmost importance! But I was under the impression that you might need more hours this week. You were three hours late to your shift on Monday, after all." Behind the cheeriness in Morris's tone, the threat beneath the words is more than apparent. "I know you care about the team here at Joja, so I was hoping that you might take this opportunity to help out the store."

Morris is making a point, though. Last Sunday, Shane had drank himself into a stupor that his alarm clock could not yank him from. The next Monday found him late to work, something that doesn't happen too often, but his boss will never let a single slip-up go unanswered for. Shane snaps his eyes shut tight, his teeth clenching as he bites back every instinct to tell his manager to kindly fuck off and leave him be. But as he opens his eyes again, he catches sight of Jas scribbling away at the paper, smiling to herself as she draws. It takes everything in his power to take his internal kettle off the heat before it boils over.

"Be right there." He hangs up the phone a little bit too roughly. He stalks back to his room, wordless, his frustrations barely held at bay. Of course this is how his "day off" is progressing; how could he be so naive? He must have forgot that Morris has a Master's Degree in Unethical Business Practice with a minor in Ruining Weekends. He hastily picks up his work polo from the floor, putting it on while trying to hold back the urge to scream. The promise of having the day to himself being yanked away from him stabs at him, but he must keep himself in check. If he ever loses his job at Joja, where would he turn to then?

"Shane?" He can hear Marnie's voice from behind the door. She is talking in a lower tone than normal, perhaps so that Jas will not overhear. "Are you going in to work?"

Shane opens his bedroom door, gesturing to his work shirt to confirm the obvious. "Guess Morris misses me too much."

Marnie frowns and looks as though she is about to object. "You can say no to him, you know."

Shane shoulders past her, his patience a wisp or two away from snapping. He snags his hoodie off the ground, worn and blue to match the company color. "No. No, I really can't." She has no response to that, and she lets him leave without following.

On a typical day, he would usually begin his trek to JojaMart around seven in the morning. If he had a vehicle, that would shorten the time considerably, but Shane has never owned a car, and he is not keen to get behind the wheel anytime soon. In Zuzu City, you only needed a bus pass to get to where you needed to go; owning a car was really just a sign of wealth or stupidity. Marnie owns an antiquated pick-up truck for her infrequent trips to Grampleton, but Shane is not about to ask her to borrow it. The desire to drive has left him a long time ago.

The forest hums with raindrops as he hustles down the road that leads to Pelican Town. Jas was right about it being a rainy spring thus far; it tries to let it soothe his anger as he treads along, already looking forward to when today is at an end. How quickly a chance for a good day can drain away. Joja may claim that life is better with them than against them, and perhaps they are correct. It's hard to be sure when it's all you've really ever known.

He hears the slightest stir amongst the patter of rain, a sound of rustling leaves. He turns his head, expecting to see a rabbit fleeing from a bush, but he spots the outline of a girl hunched over on her knees. His chest lurches, a ripple of anxiety running through him as he remembers that night by the tree; is this really happening again?

Dani stands up, brushing debris from her jeans. She begins to turn and jumps at the sight of Shane, one hand snaking into her bag and the other hand held up in some sort of attempt at defense. She visibly relaxes when the recognition sets in, and she slides her hand back out into the open. Both of her forearms are dark red, all the way down to the elbow.

What have I stumbled into now...

"You okay?" Shane hears himself say with an unexpected wariness.

Dani blinks, a slight shadow of surprise flickering on her face. Small wonder why she is bewildered; he's only spoken a handful of words to her, and most of them have been cruel. One stained hand holds up a cheap blue plastic basket, no doubt purchased from JojaMart. "I'm gathering salmonberries," she tells him, a hint of excitement in her voice. "I think I'm going to try to make jam with them."

Salmonberries are a bitter type of berry that grows in abundance in the valley during the spring. Admittedly, Shane has fond memories of picking them off of the bushes and eating them when he was little, back when he would visit Aunt Marnie's ranch as a child. "You're going need a lot of sugar to make that taste good," he mutters.

"Yes, you're probably right," Dani wipes her hands on her jeans, though the juice from the fruit seems to be stained into her skin. She looks back up at him, a slight little smile edging at the corners of her mouth. "When I get a batch done, I'd like to bring your family some."

Shane looks back to her, pausing. With her basket of berries and her stained clothing, she doesn't look quite like a farmer. No, she just seems like a disheveled girl, wet with rain and trembling in the cold. But there is a bright light to her eyes, and thankfully she is firmly on her feet and not in any sort of distress. And her muted excitement about this apparent jam project of hers is a good thing to see. And it's good to see her. It really is.

Wait. What the fuck?

She is standing there, awaiting a response. A slight shade of caution shadows her features, as if she is perhaps anticipating an unkind response. Which, again, would be keeping in his character. "If you want," he gets out as a response, admittedly recognizing and regretting the edge in his voice. He continues forward, away from her and onward to Joja, his pace more hurried than before. He can hear the ruffling of the leaves behind him, an audible sign that she is back at work.

That was the first time he has seen Dani since the day she came to visit the ranch. It has been a little over a week since then, and he has been unaware of how she has been coping. Despite his best efforts to bury his thoughts down, the incident in the woods has not left him. Something about the whole situation has not sat right with him, but this type of thinking has never been worth unpacking. Nor has he mentioned it to Marnie or anyone else; it just is not his business, or anyone else's. If he told Marnie, likely the entire town would have heard about it by the time the sun had set. Odds are, the girl just bit off more than she could chew and she worked herself overtime to the point of collapse. He can relate to that, at least, in some way.

Other than that, it is not something for him to be thinking about.

He passes through Pelican Town, the village as drenched and subdued as the nature surrounding it. Ah yes, the store must be in such danger of being short-staffed in a town of under a hundred residents. He hears a distant banging sound, somehow loud enough to provide some ammunition to his returning headache; likely it is Mayor Lewis hammering something to the community bulletin board, because only he would view a task like that as an appropriate assignment on a weekend like this. The mayor is the type to always try and keep busy, often to the point of compulsion.

He notices Penny Kingsley, Jas's tutor, near the door of the only trailer in town, fruitlessly picking up a few of the broken beer bottles scattered across their makeshift yard. He has known the girl for three years, but they have probably only spoken once or twice. Small and slight-framed, well-dressed and well-read, and one of the most anguished souls in town. She is around nineteen or twenty, but growing up with Pam as a mother has likely made her grow up much sooner than she should have had to. That alone gives Shane and her something in common, but she avoids him entirely, and it's not hard to imagine why. Like the rest of the town, she likely figures that Shane is a worthless drunkard, and she already sees enough of that in her day-to-day life.

And then he sees Alex Mullner seated on the front porch of his home, watching over his dog Dusty as the mutt snuffles around in the mud. Shane is unsure if he has ever spoken more than three words to the guy. Young, athletic, and charismatic, the sight of him is almost painful to Shane. Alex makes him think of who he used to be, or rather, who he could have been, back before he ruined his body and ruined his chances at a better future. Alex looks up from the porch, and the look in his eyes can almost be read as hostile. Shane continues forward, the words shared between them remaining stagnant for the time being.

Shane catches sight of the JojaMart in the distance, a massive blue eye-sore on the edge of town, and he shoulders on, ready for another great day.

The weekends at JojaMart are as slow as one might expect. Short-staffed, Shane continues to repeat in his head, still holding onto the anger from being called in. On days like this, he might envy Pierre; when you own your business, the expectation is that you get to create and keep to your own schedule. But in the end, he knows better than that. The slow creep of bankruptcy must be its own special corner of hell. Shane doesn't know if owning a store was ever Pierre's dream or just a way to make ends meet, but there is a unique terror in the idea of watching your livelihood crumble at the seams.

When Shane arrived in the valley, the JojaMart had only just been built. He cannot help but wonder if the residents here had rejected the idea of the superstore coming to their little town; if they truly tried to boycott the industry rather than help to fund it. But that's just another thought to keep his mind occupied. For the time being, all he can do is grin and bear it, try to ignore his pounding head, and fantasize about how many times he could scream the word union at the top of his lungs before he got instantaneously fired.

The end of "his" shift arrives, but the realization of it doesn't really hit him until he's half-way out the door. How many days like that come and go, where everything is so automated to the point where he doesn't even feel conscious throughout? It's a frightening thought, when he thinks about how many days like that he has experienced. How many weeks, months, or even years do they all add up to if he had tracked them and added them up?

A path long worn, he makes his way to the Stardrop Saloon beneath the cover of rain, to put today on that distant mental shelf. As the sky darkens above him, giving way into a stormy night, a cold dread begins to creep in.

He has been trying to bring less beer into the house into the farmhouse ever since Marnie confronted him. He doesn't think that his aunt would really try and stop him, but it's anybody's guess at this point. And he would rather avoid conflict with her, because if this becomes a bigger problem than it needs to be, then the chances of Jas getting involved increase. And that cannot happen. She is still under the impression that beer is just some adult version of soda. All he can hope for is that Jas ends up like Penny, someone who is well-adjusted despite their family history.

But since he's bringing less home, that means that the saloon is getting his gold now, not JojaMart. Which is a positive, in its own way.

The saloon is all but deserted; just Gus and Pam, the bartender and the usual suspect. When it's empty like this, it reminds Shane of a wild-west tavern from old films, where an eventual showdown is always bound to occur. Gus gives him a nod, and Shane returns the silent gesture. Pam raises her glass in greeting, but Shane is not holding one yet, which is a circumstance that he soon plans on remedying. He reaches the edge of the bar counter, completely oblivious to the sound of the door opening behind him.

"Hey, Shane." A warm voice chirps brightly from behind.

Shane swings his head around, a little too swiftly. He finds Emily behind him, dressed in some sort of assault to the optic nerves, a frock made with bright pastel colors of pink and white and blue and green. He remembers distantly that she had been talking about sewing a new springtime gown, though she did not have it ready in time for the Egg Festival last month. A snarky thought enters his head; with a glance at Gus behind the counter, Shane asks Emily, "New dress code?"

Gus does not look amused, but Emily laughs in response. "I'm not working tonight; I'm just picking up my paycheck." While Shane is fond of Emily, he is quietly relieved that she will not be sticking around; he has had enough social interaction for today by a mile. Had today gone as planned, perhaps that would not be the case. He is craving solitude almost as much as he is itching for alcohol.

His first round slides into his hand, and the night begins.

Something is not right, though. The dread he had felt on the way to the saloon has followed him inside. A cold weight sits on his chest, and he tries his best to smother it down lest it consume him. The trip home is long from here, and he has a while to go.

The drinks drift by, and he along with them.

Shane can feel his mind buzzing as he processes the room around him, the darkened corners of the saloon's walls and the stifling heat from the fireplace. He looks upward at the taxidermy bear above him, giant paws with unsheathed claws blurred around the edges. When was the first time he sat down here? When was the first time he stepped into the saloon? He had been clean for some time, he seems to recall. Nine months. He used to wonder if he stepped in here with the intention in mind, but he knows himself too well at this point. Of course he did.

Shane had lived in Zuzu City for several years on his own. He found a studio apartment on the cheap, and he managed to score a job stocking shelves at a downtown health food store to make ends meet. He moved out right at eighteen, eager to distance himself from parents who were drinking themselves to the grave. His brother Josh had done the same thing, but the contact between them was shrinking down to nearly nonexistent. His parents might be dead now, but he genuinely does not know if that's the case. He last spoke to them when he was lifting the last parcel onto the moving truck.

Those years on his own might have been its own lifetime. How hazy they are now, as faint as those stupid stickers on his bedroom ceiling at Marnie's place. So many memories made, but he cannot even recall them if he tried. But it's not like he wants to. When he finally had the opportunity to live his own life at his own hands, he could do nothing but make every wrong choice, and fail at any and every attempt at betterment.

He didn't know who else to call, when he found himself with an eviction notice, jobless, and finally subjected to himself. She was the only name who came to mind, the last family connection he could think of, and when he left the voicemail on a rainy street at the telephone booth in downtown Zuzu, he wasn't expecting a response. It was the last call before closing time, there was nothing more he could do to for deliverance. A storming night, a bridge calling for him. But in less than five minutes, so many seconds that had sliced away at him like a flurry of knives, his aunt called him back. And he found the soonest bus to Stardew Valley, and here he is now. Three years later, thousands of hours, countless minutes that tick by.

When did he give up?

He feels the hand on his shoulder, shaking him to consciousness, and he's almost tempted to swat it away. He opens his eyes, blinking through his blurred thoughts, looking up weakly to find Gus above him. "Hey, pal," the bartender's words are firm yet kind. "Think you need to head on home now."

Shane waits until Gus takes a step back before pulling himself to his feet. To his surprise, the movement almost sends him falling on his face. Briefly he wonders how many beers he ended up having, but he is not about to ask. Why bother asking questions if you do not want to know the answers? Shane limps out of the saloon, his head hung low, faintly hoping that no one is around to witness this, but he can't even bring himself to care. A path long traveled, a day lived a thousand times in a thousand different forms, an invisible number that keeps ticking upwards.

His head swimming, Shane stumbles back home to the ranch, mumbling something to himself about salmonberry jam.

A/N: Hello!

I hope 2022 is treating you all right so far. I've been in a bit of a bad place lately, but I'm hoping it will pass.

I feel like I'm a contestant on Survivor, and I'm trying to compete in a fire-making challenge, but I'm lousy with flint.

I've been working on this for quite a long time today, trying to get it all edited. I think it made me feel better in the long run to get this out. I sometimes get really bogged down with self-doubt, but I'm trying to learn to give myself permission to write some silly fanfiction that will make me happy.

Thank you for reading!

This chapter's song lyric is brought to you by Little Secrets - Passion Pit. It's a banger through and through! I love choosing the song lyrics for the chapter's heading :)