It's 3:15 in the morning and I'm dead tired, but here's the next chapter. My teacher better like this darn story or I'm going to be pretty ticked.

...Enjoy! xP

He maneuvered himself around and between people on the sidewalks, not really paying much attention to anything except for his boots on the cement. He didn't even need to look up to know when he had to turn a corner or cross a street—he'd walked from that dock to his apartment twice a week, every week for the last five years. Being a dedicated introvert, he didn't care much for all the people and noise found in a city as big as this one, but he'd learned to just grin and bear it.

Actually, that's not quite right—he didn't ever smile. It was a waste of energy, in his opinion. Why bother smiling when no one really cares about how you feel, anyway? He'd heard different arguments against that mindset, but none of them really mattered to him. He was a lone wolf, an outcast with a hard purple gaze. He'd never been one to rely on others, and he'd eventually just stopped making friends altogether.

But that didn't bother him. Oh, of course not—why should it? He actually preferred spending his time alone. Naturally, though, he did have to communicate with his customers, but that was all he would put himself through along the lines of socializing.

He clicked his tongue in discontent as a particularly strong, cold breeze blew by. He looked up from the ground to readjust the black Stetson on his head and caught sight of something in the street. He blinked once, making sure he was seeing clearly. He rolled his eyes and gave out a little sigh. It was that bothersome, clumsy girl with the bandana from the boat. But what on earth was she doing in the middle of the street?

He narrowed his eyes, noticing that her red bandana had come loose and covered her eyes. Didn't she know that you can't just sit in the middle of the road? He glanced back over his shoulder and saw a rather large truck making its way towards the girl at a quickening rate. With one final look around—he had to make sure no one else was going to try to help, just in case he wouldn't have to—he stepped off the sidewalk and plucked her off the asphalt by her forearm.

He really disliked having a conscience. He didn't particularly want to take the time to save this idiotic girl repeatedly, but he knew that he'd feel guilty later if he let her die.

"Wha—?" The girl started, severe confusion evident in her voice. He let her go and she ended up landing on the sidewalk, giving out a small, "Oof."

"Watch where y'end up," he said, his voice cold. "Y'almost got run over."

She looked up in his direction and he noticed that the bandana was still obscuring her vision. She reached up to fix it, but found that it was tangled in her hair. She sighed, her frustration getting the best of her, and stood awkwardly on the cemented pathway.

"Uh—um," she hesitated, still fiddling with her bandana, trying to take it off, "Thanks for, well, uh—thanks for saving me."

He raised one of his eyebrows at the girl in front of him. She was obviously very vulnerable—perhaps she'd never been to a place like this, he thought. She continued to try to pull the bandana from her eyes, but to no avail. He noticed how small she looked, standing a solid foot shorter than him. She was a lanky little thing, her gracelessness blatant in just the way she carried herself—arms dangling, shoulders vaguely hunched, feet turned inward slightly in her insecurity. He wondered what she was doing in a city like this. She was obviously from somewhere much smaller, like a farming town, maybe.

He shrugged his shoulders and grunted in reply to her thanks, and, not really wanting to stay for a conversation, continued down the sidewalk to his apartment before the girl could get herself in another potentially-fatal situation.

* * *

Chelsea, extremely frustrated, finally yanked her bandana off her head. She blinked a few times, her eyes readjusting to the dimmed light of the cloudy day, and scowled down at the cloth in her hands. Some lucky bandana that was. Sighing, she tied it back on her head in the proper manner and looked around. It looked like the guy who'd saved her was long gone… just like that guy on the ferry. She entertained the thought that maybe they were the same person—but that was very improbable, based on the amount of people in this city.

She frowned slightly, wishing that she could have at least seen the guy who'd saved her—either of them. She continued down towards the pier, trying not to let the bad start of her adventure get to her. Soon she would be in Flowerbud Village, planting her first harvest. She smiled a little at the thought. Things couldn't get much worse, so why worry? Everything would be fine.

* * *

Chelsea sat on the flimsy bed in the passenger room she'd been assigned for the three-day boat trip to Flowerbud. The sun had set early, leaving Chelsea in her own dark room. She didn't mind too much; she'd been grateful at first for the opportunity to get some extra sleep, as she'd pulled an all-nighter the day before. But then, as she was changing into her pajamas, the power had flickered out. And so she sat on her bed, staring into the blackness, unable to sleep.

A flash of white light illuminated the small room for a fraction of a second, followed immediately by a deafening boom. Chelsea let out a startled scream. She took a deep breath, putting her hand over her speeding heart. There was a storm? Wasn't it a little… dangerous to be out on the ocean in a storm?

She knew the answer as the boat suddenly shook and swayed violently in the water. Now, Chelsea had never been on a boat before that day, but she was pretty sure that that wasn't supposed to happen. She sprang off the bed and changed back into her shorts and yellow shirt. She pulled on her orange coat and bandana before opening up the door and peeking out into the hallway. It was incredibly empty—almost eerie, in a way. She could hear heavy footsteps and rain beating on the deck from above. Curious, she grabbed her rucksack and walked out and up the stairs leading to the deck. She came up and gasped as she looked around. There was a gaping hole in the wooden floor, and rain and ocean water poured into it. She bit her lip anxiously—the lightning had quite possibly struck the ship. What was going to happen? Where was she supposed to go—and what about the other passengers? Had anybody been hurt?

Chelsea ran over to one of the sailors, about to ask him what was going on, exactly. She never did reach him, though: an amazingly large wave managed to creep up the side of the ship and knock Chelsea off her feet. She reached out to grab the railing to steady herself, but was surprised and terrified to find that it was nowhere near her. She briefly remembered seeing the dark, churning sea coming closer and closer to her as she plummeted over the side of the boat. As soon as she made contact with the water, the only things that she could really process were how cold she was, how much her parents were probably worrying, and how badly she wished for that guy to come out of nowhere and save her again—because, really, isn't three times a better number to end on than two?

She sure thought so.

End chapter two. This is where my school project cuts off, so everything before this author's note is being turned in to my Intro to Writing and Speech teacher. Yay? Yes. Yay. This means that I can actually have romance in the later chapters. xP

Can you guys give me your opinions on if this is a fitting ending for the project? It seems a little... I don't know, abrupt. xP

Review, pretty please--your reviews make my day. I'll love you forever if you leave me a review! Oh, and thanks to the readers who add to alerts/faves, even if you're not reviewing--you make me ecstatic, too :3