I was sitting in my cubicle. The air was filled with the sounds of keys being rapidly pressed and unhappy sighs from my co-workers. Just another day at the office. I stood up and peered over my cubicle walls. The room was empty. Not a soul was here, and yet the phantom sounds continued. Confused, I sat down at my desk and opened our work chat application. Everyone was online.

I fired off a message to my co-worker Linda who sat behind me usually: Where is everyone?

It took a second for a reply to come: What do you mean? We're all here. We always have been. What's the matter with you?

Without warning, a terminal window opened on my computer and a command prompt appeared, the cursor blinking up at me. Gibberish began to fill the screen and scroll by. I mashed the keys on my keyboard, but to no avail. It wouldn't stop.

I stood back up, this time looking back at where Linda usually sat. She was at her desk, hunched over something, her notebook probably. The top of her dark head was all I could see as she focused on her work.

"Linda," I began, stepping closer. I was at the cubicle wall dividing us, peering down at her. "Linda, what's going on?"

Her head swivelled up and I let out a scream. Where there should have been rich, hazel eyes, were two large gaping black holes. Her mouth hung open, framed by dry drool. Her skin was grey, decayed. She smelled like death and rage and loneliness.

"No!" I shouted, sitting up in my bed. My heart throbbed in my chest and I was covered in a cold sweat. It had been a dream. I looked around me. The faintest glow of sunrise had filtered in and I felt relief that I was here, and not in my bed at my parents' house, getting ready for another day of work at Joja Corp. No, I was in Stardew Valley, and I was safe.

I got up and lit the fireplace. I sat on the floor in front of it, hugging my knees to my chest. I had been here for a week now. It had been a week riddled with nightmares, most of which had involved either the townsfolk jeering at me or Joja Corp existing. I shivered inadvertently. It was going to be a slow start this morning.

I took my time by the fire, watching through the window as the sky transitioned from dawn to day. I thumbed through my journal, touching up the sketches I had done of the wizard, Maru, and Leah. I was so close to completing that first task I had given myself, but one portrait remained, one checkbox was still unchecked. It was nearly 9am before I left the house.

In terms of farming, I was doing much better than I had on day 1. My crops were showing signs of life, and I had learned that there were ways other than farming that I could make money. Foraging and mining were what occupied my nights. It was only when I had worked myself to exhaustion that I was able to sleep dreamlessly. I had failed myself last night, opting to fish instead of mine or forage. I had gone to bed before exhausting myself fully. Perhaps my parents could send some of my books out here, then I could at least whittle down my energy reading until 2am. This place was starting to feel like home, but I was still missing my creature comforts – books, video games, music. With them came memories and whispers of my life back in the city, but maybe I could get them sent out here piecemeal so as not to fuel my nightmares.

It took me less than half an hour to water all my crops, and I fell into the routine I had created for myself in the last week: clearing up more land until about 12 noon, wandering onto the beach to scavenge for shells, then fishing until I became too frustrated. This usually took me into the thick of the afternoon, but today fishing had left me more frustrated than usual and I had given up after 2 failed bites.

"Isn't the sea marvellous today?"

I whirled around to face the voice. It was Elliott. This was my third or fourth time running into him. Thankfully news of my parsnip failures had not reached him, or perhaps he didn't care. Either way, I appreciated his talking to me, though I suspected sometimes it was more that he was musing aloud to himself and I just happened to be in earshot.

He stood a few feet away, keeping a friendly but cautious distance. "It isn't treating me very kindly today," I sighed. "How are you today?"

He shook his head slightly, a frown tugging at his lips. His long hair flowed in the air around him as a sea breeze hit us. "I should be writing, but I cannot."

I gave him an inquisitive look, but he said no more, only staring out at the sea.

Not knowing what else to say, I uttered a quiet farewell and headed into town. I was done with the sea for today.

"Ew," Haley said as I walked past her. I felt a blush creep up my neck and I refused to look at her, though I could feel her gaze on me, assessing my clothes, my gait. I had to get away.

Without acknowledging where I was going, I took a turn and veered out of town. The sun was out in full force and my backpack was feeling heavy. I had taken to the bad habit of keeping everything I found and picked up.

My feet took me on a path past the general store, past the community centre, and up onto the mountain. I contemplated doing some mining. There was something strangely comforting about that cave. Maybe it was the cool darkness, something akin to the shadows in the overhangs of buildings. Maybe it was the fact that it had an elevator in it – a reminder of the city and its skyscrapers lined with elevators. Those elevators were full of people, though. This one felt private, almost like it was mine and mine alone. I had not seen anyone else in these caves.

I was too restless now to mine, and I stopped in front of the carpenter's house. She ran her business out of her house, didn't she? I groped around in my pocket. I had managed to save up a few thousand gold by eating what I had foraged and selling everything else. Perhaps I could enlist the carpenter's services. I had a flash of memory seeing the buildings grandpa had had on the farm, in particular the tall, towering silos that had stood guard and beckoned me to climb them. I had never been allowed to, but I had dreamt of it at one point.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the front door. The inside resembled the general store in that it was all wood and the style was akin to a log cabin. Likely the two buildings had been built by the same person. The carpenter stood behind a counter, her expression neutral.

"Hi there," I approached the counter. "You're Robin, right?"

The woman on the other side stared at me, her auburn hair glistening in the light. Her face was a mask of apprehension. "Yes, I'm Robin. And you're that new farmer. Have you met everybody yet?"

"No, not yet." My tone was apologetic; everyone wanted me to meet everyone, but I was at 27 out of 28. That last person was proving to be incredibly elusive and I was starting to hate them for it.

She shrugged. "That seems rather tiring, I admit." She became less wary after my response, but there was still some reservation in her eyes "Anyway," she said coolly, eyeing me, "what can I do for you, farmer?" She emphasized the word, making it clear that my credibility was in question. Word must've gotten up here even about the parsnip fiasco, or maybe I really was failing to assimilate. I looked down at what I was wearing. Dark, tight-legged jeans and an old band tee – maybe not typical farmer attire, but at least I hadn't worn my holey combat boots. Today I had settled on a pair of red sneakers. Perhaps that had been my fatal flaw.

"Your house is beautiful," I said, swallowing noisily, stalling.

"I built it myself," Robin stated, pride etched her words. "Thank you." She gave me an expectant look, matter-of-fact once more.

It was time to make my request. "I'd like to hire you to build a silo out on my farm." I kept my hands clasped in front of me on top of the counter, hoping they would stop shaking. I wanted so badly to be liked in this town, but so far people seemed to keep me at a distance, and some were downright rude. The initial excitement people had had at meeting the "new farmer" had worn off quickly. I hadn't expected it to be so hard – weren't people in small towns supposed to be friendly and more genuine? Maybe the ugly truth was that people were genuinely selfish, regardless of the setting. My heart ached for Zuzu City at that moment, the void in me hungry for lights and noise.

"You'll have to provide me with some materials," Robin said, hauling a catalogue up onto the counter.

"Not a problem," I said, and looked down at the page she had opened the catalogue to. I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. I turned and lifted my head, but it was gone.

"What's wrong?" Robin asked, frowning.

"It's just," I began, wrestling over how much I should tell her, "I thought I saw something in my periphery down the hall. Something dark. But it's gone now." I shook my head slightly. She probably thought I was crazy and my reputation in this town was besmirched for the rest of time. No great loss, I supposed, since my reputation was in the pits already.

"Oh, that's my son Sebastian," Robin said, shrugging. "First marriage," she clarified. Her tone had brightened a surprising amount. "He lives in the basement, but only really comes up for food, and," she looked at the clock, "now would be his usual feeding time."

"Okay," I said evenly, as though everything she'd said made perfect sense. "I don't believe I've met him before." Voilà, checkbox number 28.

Robin nodded. "I'm not surprised. He's not one to come out and socialize, not even for new blood." She stepped out from behind the counter. "Come, you should meet him before he disappears back downstairs."

I hesitated, but followed. If Sebastian was anything like his mother, it would be a straightforward meeting at least.

Robin led me down a hallway to a junction, and then turned left. I caught a glimpse of a lab as we rounded the corner. We walked past some closed doors – likely bedrooms – and ended up in a small kitchen. Standing by the sink was who could only be Sebastian. He looked unlike anyone else in the town. Somehow it made sense why I had not met Sebastian until now. He wore a black hoodie over black jeans. His hair was long enough that his bangs hung over part of his face. I could see his mother in his build and facial features – lean, pleasant, but furtive. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, perhaps my age. I tried not to stare, but his gaze met mine and we awkwardly greeted each other. Awkward creatures interacting with one another was always such a gamble. My expectation was another losing hand.

"Sebby, this is the new farmer in the valley," Robin explained, giving her son an unexpectedly warm smile.

"I'm from Zuzu City," I said, rushing to clear the air before more disapproving glances were thrown my way, "I lived there all my life. I don't know how to dress like a farmer, which is why I'm dressed like this, and no I didn't know how to plant parsnip seeds, but I do now." My face flushed and I dropped my gaze. It was even more embarrassing now that I had stated this all so plainly out loud. I knew that Robin was staring at me. Sebastian was as well, but his look was more pensive than his mother's, which had cycled through disgust, reproach, and pity.

"Well, that explains that," Robin said finally, and I knew that her cheery demeanour was a show put on for her son. "Why don't we get back to talking about the materials I need for that silo?"

"Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?" Sebastian asked suddenly.

I looked from him to his mother and back again. Robin shrugged, cast a curious glance at Sebastian, and left the room.

I exhaled once she was gone, feeling relief now that the main judgemental force was removed. I turned and faced Sebastian. Sunlight trickled in through the window over the stove, giving him a weird glow that clashed with the darkness of his outfit and hair. His features were really far less offensive than I had expected of a basement-dwelling hermit.

"Yes, I chose Pelican Town." I could not keep my defensiveness out of my voice.

"Why?" His tone was deliberate.

"My grandfather left me his farm. He wrote this letter telling me about how it had become a sanctuary for him, a reprieve from the soul-crushing corporate life he had in the city." I shrugged and crossed my arms, "It didn't mean much to me as a kid, but after I graduated and started my first job at Joja Corp, it started making sense to me. I kept that letter in my desk at work as a reminder that I always had a way out. And one day, after the project I was working on got scrapped and I was given the most menial data entry task ever, I just snapped." I sighed. The words had come out in a strangely seamless river. I hadn't thought much about grandpa's letter in the last week, but I should have been. After all, I was here now for a reason. I couldn't lose sight of that. My grandpa loved me, and he had made sure to care for me even after his death. I was lucky to have that.

Sebastian studied a tile on the floor, then looked up at me. "That's a good reason." He briefly toyed with something in his mind. "I've been thinking of moving to Zuzu City," he said softly. He seemed to be trying out the words and the idea, a tease at a confession. His dark eyes met mine. He didn't have to say what his question was, and I sensed that he was not comfortable enough to ask me. That was fair. I was just a stranger to him, and he to me.

I shrugged again, trying to be nonchalant, though my mind still sifted through what I'd told him just before. "It's not for everybody. I mean, there's a ton of differences between small town and big city life. I don't think I know them all yet, but they're there – some subtle, some obvious."

"Maybe you can tell me about them as you figure them out," he said. He was deep in thought, but his statement had not been made flippantly. It was almost as though his words had slipped out and he wasn't quite aware of it yet.

"Sure," I nodded. "Maybe you can teach me about small town life and I can teach you about big city life." I chuckled at the absurdity of my words, but he gave me a small smile all the same.

"That sounds good." He stiffened as he said this, unsure of what he had just agreed to. I couldn't blame him, really.

"Cool, well, I'm going to get back to your mom now," I gestured at the door. "She said that she built this house, which is absolutely amazing. She's got to be really good with her hands. I'm asking her to erect a silo on my land."

Sebastian quirked an eyebrow at me, unable to help himself. "Yeah, okay. Anyway, I've got work to do."

A sudden realization came over me as he made for the doorway. "Oh Yoba, I didn't mean to say it like that about your mom. The innuendo – shit, shit, shit. I can never live this down, ever. I'm so sorry, that came out all wrong and dirty." I covered my face with my hands. Mortification spilled over me in a bright, hot blush. It was over, the jig was up. This city slicker was doomed to the concrete jungle for the rest of time. I pictured myself hammering a sign into the ground in front of my farm – "For Sale" – as the townsfolk cheered and laughed at me.

Sebastian smirked. "Don't worry, I won't tell a soul," he said, and slipped out of sight.