Wow, I wrote this faster than I thought I would. It turned out decently, with plenty of dialogue. I can't say you all are going to like what I have going on plot-wise, but... I dunno. Read and find out, I guess.

Oh, and a note: I found out that my three-asterisk-separation technique, the one I've been using to separate scenes and POVs, hasn't been showing up. This made it very confusing a some points during earlier chapters. I hope that it's working now, and I'm sorry about that.

"Vaughn, man, are you feeling okay?"

The cowboy scowled over at Riley from across their bench on the deck. He just wouldn't stop bugging him, and it was annoying the hell out of Vaughn. He pulled his hat down over his eyes, blocking out the sun and—hopefully—his chatty friend.

"You don't seem to be as… talkative as you normally are." Riley added, smirking to himself. Vaughn rolled his eyes and turned towards his brown-haired coworker.

"Why d'you care, anyway?" He muttered, his face pulled down into a deep frown. Riley grinned cheekily.

"If I don't care, who will?"

Vaughn blinked, the truth of this comment really striking him. He really didn't have anyone else to care. Not that he needed anyone else, but… still. Ever since that last conversation with the farmer girl, he'd been, well, distant—even more so than he usually was—and Riley just had to notice. It was that girl. She made him remember everything he had worked so hard to forget.

"Vaughn? Man, I'm sorry—I didn't mean—"

"S'alright," Vaughn sighed, looking up at the overcast sky. He hated this. He hated being a slave to his memories—every day, year after year—until he forgot, that is. After that, he was able to live a bit less glumly. He'd learned his lesson and stayed away from people. He got a job that let him move around. He didn't talk to anyone unless he needed to—except for Riley, but that was a special case—and he was getting along fine like that.

Until her.

She just had to go and ruin it all. Why did she remind him of everything from back then? Why did he have to have been on the same ship as her all those weeks ago; why did he have to run into her in the city? And why, Goddess help him, did he have to be assigned the very same island that she washed up on? Was fate playing with him? Was she tormenting him for a reason, or was it for her own sick enjoyment?

Why couldn't that girl just leave him alone?

"…Are you going to tell her?"

Vaughn snapped out of his daze at the idiocy of his friend's comment. He locked his icy gaze with Riley's, glaring daggers at his concerned coworker.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Riley," Vaughn sighed, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration, "You're the only one who knows. You of all people should understand—I ain't the kind to go telling people about myself. They don't give a shit."

"Are you sure about that? That girl you mentioned before, she seemed like she might care—if you gave her a chance to, I mean."

Vaughn frowned and looked out over the ocean, where the sun was already up and crawling into the middle of the sky. They would be docking at Flowerbud Village in a few minutes. Sighing, he shook his head slowly. Riley may have been right. He may not have. Vaughn wasn't sure he was willing to find out.

"Hello? Is anybody home?"

Chelsea looked over towards her door, shocked that someone would be visiting so early. She shoved the rest of her breakfast in her mouth and jogged over to the entry of her tiny house. Upon opening the door, she saw—she wasn't expecting this—a young man who, as much as she hated to admit it, was really quite handsome.

He somewhat resembled a pirate in his clothing choices, and he had a weird black bird perched on his shoulder. His face was bright with his smile—his tanned complexion seemed to radiate happiness. His overly-curly, dark hair was piled on his head and he kept it underneath a purple bandana.

That was probably why Chelsea thought him so attractive—she had a thing for bandanas, as embarrassing as it was for her.

"Hey there," the guy said, his eyes closing as his smile grew, "My name's Denny—I'm a fisherman. I heard there's some pretty gnarly fish to be caught here, so I moved in down at the beach!"

"Hi, Denny," Chelsea smiled. He was nice—she could see herself being his friend. "I'm Chelsea, and—as I'm sure you could figure out—I work this here farm."

"That's cool! Tell me, do you ever fish in your free time?"

Chelsea thought back to the old fishing rod Taro'd given her, and how she hadn't had the time or stamina to try it out, what with the rush of the summer harvest. She slowly—and somewhat regretfully—shook her head.

"I haven't had a lot of extra time lately. Maybe after the farm picks up…" She trailed off, wondering when exactly that would ever happen.

"Alright, alright. Whenever you have extra time, just come down to the beach—I'll show you how fishing's done!" He pumped his fist into the air as he finished, causing Chelsea to laugh at his enthusiasm.

"Sure, I'll come by sometime."

"Awesome!" He said, nodding, "Well, I'd better let you get going on your chores. I can't imagine running a farm by myself—you've got some guts."

Chelsea laughed, waving him off. "It's not that bad."

"I'll take your word for it. See you later!" He called, jogging down the path. Chelsea watched him as he stopped to wave, and, smiling, she waved back.

He was nice, she decided, a soft grin still on her face. She wondered if Julia'd met him yet—she'd definitely have to talk to her today.

"Julia!" Chelsea shouted, bursting into the animal shop.

Julia dropped the bag of feed she'd been moving and let out a screech as it hit the ground. She turned and glared at the farmer. "Goddess, Chelsea, you scared the crap out of me!"

"Sorry, sorry," Chelsea said hurriedly, walking over to her blonde friend, "Julia—have you met the new guy yet?"

"Oh, you mean… What's his name? Darcy?" Julia said, picking up the feed. Chelsea rolled her eyes.

"Denny."

"Yeah, him." Julia nodded, shoving the bag onto a low shelf. "He came by a little bit ago. He seemed pretty nice. Why?"

"Oh," Chelsea stopped, sitting down at the nearby table in the kitchen, "I don't know—I was just wondering."

"Right." Julia replied, raising an eyebrow at her friend. She sat across from her at the table. "Spill, Chels. You like this guy, don't you?"

"Well, no…"Chelsea sputtered, her face heating up slightly, "I mean, I like his bandana."

"What's that supposed to mean? Is that, like, a code for something?" Julia asked, smirking, "And what about Vaughn?"

"What about Vaughn?" Chelsea asked, confused. What did he have to do with this?

"Well, you're always trying to talk to him…" Julia trailed off, eyeing Chelsea, waiting for her reason.

"I just—Well, um, it's different with him. He just seems like, I don't know, he needs a friend or something. Who could seriously want to be so alone?"

"I don't know, Chelsea. If I were you, I'd leave him be—he doesn't seem like the friendly type, if you catch my drift." Julia sighed, studying the table.

"Oh, come on, Julia," Chelsea frowned, "You don't even know the guy."

"And you do?"

"I'm trying to! And when did we even start talking about Vaughn, anyways? I thought we were talking about—about—" Chelsea stuttered, faltering. What was his name, again?

"Denny?" Julia supplied. Chelsea sunk down in her chair.

"Yeah... Him."

Oh, Chelsea. You and your bandana fetish. Ahaha, just kidding, guys! I hope I'll get another update in this month, but as of now, it's not looking so good--I actually have a ton of stuff I put off doing to write this. Including a ten-paragraph essay on HARVEST MOON. xDDD

Review and tell me what you think, please! xP