She hadn't ridden on anyone's back since Gramps was alive. Her first time visiting him, she had been five years old—maybe six. Her father had custody at the time but had dropped her off while he left on a business trip. Gramps had welcomed her warmly, lifted her up and placed her on his shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. She'd been terrified, at first. She was sure she would fall and clinged to his salt and pepper hair for dear life. He didn't snap at her for pulling his hair, didn't berate her or scold her for being rough...instead, he laughed. He laughed, clear and hearty, such a kind sound that still echoed in her mind and shattered her like glass. At the time, it soothed her, and when she released her vice grip on his hair, he'd given her a strawberry—the biggest and reddest one she had ever seen with such a sweet taste, she never craved dessert again.

It was odd to think about him after all this time. It was too difficult to even hear his name after he died. All too quickly she had buried the memories away, deeming them much too painful despite how happy she had been pretending to fly on his shoulders.

He deserved a better granddaughter.

Lilah closed her eyes and adjusted her arms around Sebastian's shoulders. He had a solid hold of her despite his lithe form, walking with purpose. He was quiet, though Lilah wasn't sure if the silence between them could be considered awkward.

"So, you work with your mom?" Lilah asked, at once curious and desperate for a distraction from the feeling of the blood-soaked bandage around her leg.

"Hm? Oh...no. She just said she needed some help getting her stuff down to the farm," Sebastian shifted, his dark hair falling in his face.

"So what do you do?"

"I'm a freelance programmer."

Lilah arched an eyebrow, an incredulous laugh escaping her before she could stop it.

"Sorry, I wasn't laughing at you, I just...I'm surprised you even have internet out here. I don't even have an indoor toilet!"

Sebastian glanced over his shoulder at her, a slight smirk tugging his lips before he looked forward once again.

"I was thinking about something similar today," he shrugged. "It's probably not as fast as the city, but it's enough for me to make a steady income and save up. Hopefully, I'll be able to move out there soon."

Lilah thought about the cold, concrete labyrinth that was Zuzu City. She supposed that someone living in a small town all their life would be entranced by the neon lights and nightlife...but part of her wanted nothing more than to talk him out of it. It was a tomb of nightmares and monsters—of rain-frozen alleyways and sneering faces. She shivered.

"Hang in there," He told her, perhaps mistaking her sudden tremor as a shudder of pain. She nodded and forced herself to relax. The less she thought about Zuzu City—

"So what's it like?"

—the better.

"Honestly?" Her tone was unsure and he picked up on it instantly.

"I guess you have your own reasons for leaving, but I'm having a hard time coming up with what they could be. Ever since I first visited, I've always wanted to move out there. Compared to the Valley, everything there seems so...futuristic, I guess. Like something out of a sci-fi movie."

"It may as well be inhabited by aliens," Lilah mused.

"That bad?"

"It's not like here. Back there, no one would be helping me like you are now. Everyone just kind of keeps to themselves."

"That last part doesn't sound too bad," Sebastian said. "Give it a couple of weeks and you'll know more about everyone here than you could ever want to—whether the things you hear are true or not depends on the person. But you'll wish they kept to themselves."

A weak smile skewed her face, but Sebastian couldn't see it.

"We're almost to the clinic," he said. "My sister is the nurse there, and Doc Harvey will patch you up."

Lilah thanked him despite how the thought of the shoebox stuffed under her bed turned her stomach to ice. She had only been able to smuggle so much money with her from Zuzu City and a doctor's bill would cut her remaining funds by half at the least. Not for the first time, she wondered if she had really thought this decision through.

"This way," the nurse—at least, Lilah thought she was a nurse—ushered the pair through to an exam room. It was as standard as they came, though Lilah wasn't sure if she had really been expecting anything more. Anatomical posters and drug information plastered the walls, with a couple landscape paintings thrown in to attempt a more comforting atmosphere. The exam table looked old but well taken care of, faded vinyl lining with a rolled paper sheet protecting it from the patients.

The entire place smelled like antiseptic and iodine.

Sebastian backed up to the table and raised up enough for Lilah to sit on the sheet.

"You good?" He asked, looking over his shoulder. He didn't let her go until she nodded and removed her arms from around his neck. He stepped away, casually rolling his shoulders and moving so the nurse could check her leg. "Mom patched her up as best as she could."

She hummed in thought, carefully inspecting the wrap. This close, Lilah could read the name "Maru" embroidered on the left side of her blouse, but no job title. She was pretty, young—probably around Abigail's age—with dark hair cutely framing her sienna face. Her hazel eyes were hardened in concentration while her glasses slipped down her nose. Maru lifted Lilah's leg and pulled out a thick cushion from the foot of the bed to slip beneath it as another man entered the room. He was tall, with reddish-brown hair curled nearly on top of his head. He sported a thick mustache that was almost comical, but somehow it seemed his face would be lacking without it.

"So, what's going on here?" He asked, eyes kind behind his glasses. He scanned the state of her unwrapped leg and retrieved a pair of vinyl gloves.

"I fell through my porch," Lilah gulped and turned her face away from the jagged gash in her leg, electing instead to search for Sebastian...but he was gone. He must have stepped out when the other man—Doctor Harvey, she suspected—came in. An odd weight settled in her chest. Disappointment didn't seem like the right word, but Lilah had at least wanted to thank him once more before he left.

"Ouch, that's not good," Harvey gingerly took her leg in his hand and examined the wound. His tone was even, casual but warm, like a father assuring his child that the scrape on their knee was not the end of the world. "You'll definitely need to have this stitched up, but don't worry. You'll be just fine," He smiled and retrieved a pair of forceps and some alcohol. Lilah hissed as the alcohol cleaned away the worst of the blood, the burn travelling from her torn skin all the way up to her thigh. With surgical precision, Harvey began extracting the splinters still embedded.

It was quicker than she was used to—Harvey's hands moved fluidly in a way that was almost hypnotic to watch. She watched him as he swapped tools, arming himself with sutures and a gel that numbed her skin where he smeared it. The needle pierced through her easily, gliding the way a wave rolls against the shore, each movement pulling her flesh back together. She hadn't noticed when he started to speak again until he glanced up at her expectantly.

"Sorry...what was that?"

"I said it looks like you've had a rough time of it," he repeated with a nod towards the smattering of bruises and scarring on her legs. Her stomach rose into her throat and Lilah swallowed thickly.

"I'm just really clumsy," flowed out of her before she could stop it. She didn't plan on spilling her circumstances to every person that she came across, but she inwardly cursed at how quick she was to avoid admitting the real cause behind the state of her body. He wasn't the first doctor to comment on the excessive amount of healing and fresh injuries, but she'd be damned if he wasn't the last. She would never have to lie again.

Harvey's hands paused momentarily, but he nodded and continued his work. He remained light-hearted as he wrapped her newly-sutured leg up in a clean bandage.

"Keep them wrapped and dry for the next couple of days," he told her. "And no strenuous activity. It won't be very pleasant if you rip them open."

"Thanks. I'll be careful," Lilah promised.

"Good, and...Lilah, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, that's me," she would never be comfortable with the fact that this whole town seemed to know more about her than she did about them.

"Well, Lilah. Don't hesitate to come see me if you're ever 'clumsy' again."

Lilah frowned, but offered a curt nod. She pushed herself off the table and limped towards the door, Maru following close behind. She didn't look back to see how Harvey was looking at her—he couldn't possibly know so much just by patching up her leg. Guilt clawed its way up her back, curled inside her throat, and pressed against her chest. Emery would be pissed if—

If what? Lilah asked herself. She grit her teeth and forced herself to walk more evenly, the tightness of the bandage grounding her to the now. How long would it take before she stopped arranging her thoughts and actions over what that man wanted? She had come to Pelican Town to get away. She had to pick up the pieces of her life that she had left and fit them back together in a way that suited her.

It was her life and she would take it back.

There was something about the title "Farming for the Agriculturally Impaired" that made Lilah think that not all answers could be found in a book. A portrait of the author was plastered across the back cover, some bespectacled man in a suit that appeared just as "agriculturally impaired" as she was. He'd probably never held a trowel in his life, much less a hoe. Lilah tossed the library book onto the bedside table with a groan, falling back against her pillow and covering her eyes with her arm. All she'd been able to do for the last few days was read about farming and basically do everything except actually get Haven Farm blooming. Abigail had been kind enough to stop by and do a library run for her, the idea being that she could at least study up on the trade while indisposed, but Lilah's entire body itched with agitation.

A week was gone already and she had nothing of note to show for it. Her shoebox stash was dwindling, still enough that she would be comfortable for a couple of weeks but she needed to make money fast.

"Enough," she growled and sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Her leg was still healing, neatly wrapped in bandages to cover the nine stitches sealing the gash in her flesh. It was still tender and she still hadn't been given the all clear by the doctor. Doctor Harvey was a kind man, if somewhat awkward. He'd seemed appalled at the thought of her walking to and from his examinations, though he stuttered and blushed during their follow up when Lilah jokingly asked if she should have him carry her around town like Sebastian had.

Speaking of…

Lilah checked the clock on the wall—small, cheaply made, with a black rim and much too loud of a ticking mechanism. She had just enough time to bathe and find something relatively presentable to wear before heading over to the Stardrop Saloon. It was tradition, according to Abigail, for everyone to meet at the Saloon every Friday...and it was no small shock to discover that Abigail truly meant everyone . Lilah wasn't sure how she felt about being in a building with the entire town at once, but she was grateful to have a budding friendship with the girl and planned to take full advantage of the opportunity to socialize, especially if the carpenter's son would be there.

Lilah had wracked her brain for the best way to thank him. She didn't have much of value. Giving him money seemed too personally detached and she didn't know what type of food he liked so she could cook something in her meager kitchen. But, as she had been searching through the pockets of her laundry for loose change she had stumbled across something that might suffice. The small black box waited on her pillow, the size of her palm and thin enough that it had remained forgotten in her backpack for years. She didn't remember when she had bought it or why but it seemed to have been waiting for this exact moment.

She had never believed in things like that, but the way she found her old lockbox with Gramps's will in the closet was so serendipitous that something like "fate" didn't seem nearly as silly as it had a year ago. Maybe that gift had always been meant to come to Pelican Town.

Sebastian smirked and leaned back over the billiards table, his cue balancing on his thumb as he lined up his next shot. A crash as the cue pistoned against the cue-ball, striking the eight with a flash of white and sending it to the corner pocket.

"Oh, come on!" Sam moaned, flopping onto the old weathered couch. He swiped his Joja Cola from the table and popped the tab, sealing his pouting lips over the opening as he chugged it down. Sebastian would never understand how his friend could stomach the saccharine drink, how it didn't coat his insides in a thick syrup that thickened with each can. Sam crushed the deep blue can in his fist and basketball tossed it towards the trash bin. It bounced off the edge, clanged against the wall, and fell to the floor with a pathetic flop.

"You done already?" Sebastian asked, grabbing the rack off the shelf. He removed the balls from their pockets and began to arrange them inside the triangle, watching the blond with amusement as he grumbled and walked over to drop his trash in the bin properly.

"You can't just let me win once, can you?"

"It's not really winning that way," Sebastian shrugged. "It's not like Penny's watching you embarrass your—"

Sam flushed and hissed through his teeth, slamming his hand over Sebastian's mouth. His wild blond hair looked even more disheveled in his frenzy.

"Come on, dude! She'll hear you!"

Sebastian removed his friend's hand and rubbed his face, irritation curling his upper lip.

"Over the jukebox? Doubtful. But if you've had enough for one day, I'll just head home."

"Some wingman you are," Sam muttered, grabbing his discarded cue from the couch. He watched as Sebastian finishing racking the balls and sidled up to the table to break.

"Hey, guys! Room for two more?" Abigail's familiar voice cut through the din of conversation and ancient jukebox music. Sebastian glanced over to greet her and blinked. Abigail had her arm linked with the farm girl—Leela? Lily? Lilah, he recalled. She looked different, her black hair hanging loose down her back all the way to her waist, she wore light make up, nothing as extravagant as Haley did, but natural colors blending over the sunburnt skin that Sebastian had seen just a few days before. She was wearing her cut-off shorts and a thin gray sweater that matched the tone of her kohl-lined eyes—eyes that looked directly at him.

Sam clasped hands with her, smiling warmly and tearing her gaze away from Sebastian. They each said something in greeting but the words didn't quite reach Sebastian's ears. He thought he should say something, ask how she was, ask how her leg was doing, but the Saloon suddenly felt too crowded—too loud. Sweat beaded at the base of his neck and he wanted to rip his hoodie off from the heat. She seemed nice enough, Abigail had certainly taken a shine to her, but having her suddenly become a member of the group twisted his stomach in a way he couldn't quite describe—he wasn't even necessarily sure it was a bad feeling, but it urged him to make tracks nevertheless. Sam looked his way and smiled, moving to put a hand on his shoulder—a comforting and grounding weight that made the air feel less thick.

"This is Sebastian," he offered, always happy to do enough talking for the both of them.

"We've met," Lilah smiled. "Thanks for your help the other day."

"Yeah, no problem," Sebastian swallowed, the more she looked at him, the hotter he felt. There wasn't enough air. He needed air. "I'm actually going to head out. I have stuff I have to do in the morning."

Lilah blinked, the corners of her lips tugged downward slightly but Abigail chirped up.

"Oh, come on! We just got here!"

Sebastian glanced at Sam who nodded.

"It's fine! He was actually talking about heading out already. I'll walk him and we can play Prairie King when I get back. Loser buys the next round," Sam grinned. That seemed to appease Abigail for the time being, who instead took it upon herself to pull Lilah towards the arcade game to show her the ropes.

Sebastian muttered a quick goodbye to his friends and the farmer. When the cool night air finally hit him, it was like stepping under a waterfall. He took a few deep breaths to collect himself, his heart still hammered in his chest and he felt like it would stop at any minute. It didn't feel like his usual panic attack, but somehow that made the feeling in his chest that much more terrifying. He hadn't even realized he had already started walking by the time Sam caught up to him near the old Community Center.

"Hey, hold up!" He called, reaching into his jacket pocket. "You okay?"

"Yeah, it was just too crowded," Sebastian said. Sam nodded once, hesitated, then pulled out a small black box the size of his hand.

"I think new girl was disappointed. She asked me to give this to you—she said it's to thank you for before."

Sebastian's stomach rolled as he took the box.

"Great...now I look like an ass," he grumbled.

"Nah, I just told her you'd been constipated all day and had to hurry home. She was really sympathetic."

"You—" Sebastian sputtered, face burning in humiliation and he raised the box in his fist at the laughing Sam.

"I'm joking! Don't hit me! At least you've calmed down, right?"

Sebastian went silent. The fluttering in his chest was indeed gone, his breathing even, his stomach calm save for the twinge of guilt that he didn't at least stick around for Lilah to give him the gift herself. Not that she needed to give him something in the first place, he hadn't helped her for any sort of reward.

As they walked, Sebastian carefully pulled the top off the box. Inside sat what appeared to be a dog tag shaped necklace, but it was off. He frowned in confusion and lifted it up. It was thin metal, intricate but seemingly random lines crossed and formed blocks across the face. He could see through the gaps the lines of metal left, held it up to the moonlight, turned it over in his hands. The design seemed oddly familiar but he couldn't quite make sense of it.

"Well that's...something," Sam offered.

"That's one way to put it," Sebastian arched an eyebrow and put it back in the box.

"Maybe it's a city thing? They probably think that's artistic or something," Sam shrugged. "I guess…it's the thought that counts?"

"I guess so." Sebastian shoved the box in his hoodie and took out his cigarettes. He held one between his lip and lit the tip, taking a calming drag and blowing the smoke out through his nose. He and Sam walked back up the mountain in companionable silence, nothing but the wind in the leaves and the sound of gravel underfoot to narrate their trek. By the time they reached his house, Sebastian finished his smoke and extinguished the butt in the empty flower pot by the door.

"Text me if you need me," Sam said. Sebastian only nodded and let himself into the house. Everyone else was still at the Saloon, which worked for him. It was nice to have the house quiet for once and he wasn't going to waste the opportunity. He kicked off his shoes and went downstairs to his room, flipping on the lights and heading straight for his computer. He settled into his chair and sighed to himself in relief. It really was a lot of work to go out.

His computer screen blazed to life when he wriggled the mouse and he keyed in his password against the backdrop of the Zuzu cityscape. His desktop appeared after a brief loading screen, another image of the city from the street view. Sebastian leaned back in his seat and just watched as his wallpaper changed—a slideshow of different views of the world he longed for. He imagined he was there, surrounded by those gargantuan towers—like castles in their own right. The images shifted from roadways to bridges, to aerial views, until a certain image caught his attention with a jolt like electricity.

Sebastian sat forward in his seat, clicking on his image folder for his wallpapers and finding the file that sparked his interest. It was a top down view of the city taken from a helicopter. The entire layout of the Zuzu City was there on his screen, each street, bridge, and intersection all neatly laid out for him. He frowned and reached into his pocket, pulling out the gift the farmer had brought for him. He took the pendant out of the box and held it in his palm, looking at the seemingly random lines running from one edge to the other. He raised it up against his computer screen and it clicked.

The lines weren't random at all. Each thin line matched up with a street or alleyway, the thicker lines matched bridges. He held a scaled down map of the city in his hand. The feeling returned to the pit of his stomach, at once fluttering and violent, like frogs were trapped in his abdomen and trying to leap their way out. His chest and face felt warm, and he felt an almost overwhelming, yet curious urge to curl into himself.

Sebastian clasped the chain around his neck and felt the pendant flop solidly against his chest. He felt foolish for not recognizing the necklace for what it was earlier and was at once thankful that he had decided to open the box on his own. Sam had said it was the thought that counts and Sebastian couldn't think of any other word to describe the gift besides "thoughtful." He had only mentioned the city once to her during their brief meeting, yet she thought to give him something like this. He imagined the disappointment Lilah could have felt if she witnessed his initial reaction and it made him grimace.

The next time they met, he'd thank her properly.