The Egg Festival came and went. Abigail had won the egg hunt, and I had not been too bothered by that. I had finally run out of coffee to give Sebastian and hadn't seen him in a few days as I was busy planning which seeds to buy for the second half of the season. I was happy for the excuse; I had been purposefully keeping my last visits to Sebastian's short, not venturing beyond greetings and good-byes. The fact that he did freelance work was enough reason not to bother him, I told myself, never mind the awkwardness our last conversation had ended with.

My first harvest had been surprisingly profitable, and I had purchased a larger backpack for myself. I was still scrimping and scraping in terms of my own meals, but I didn't mind the taste of raw leek so much when I realized that I had 5000g on me, even after buying my more spacious backpack.

"I'm getting better at this," I said happily this morning, patting Dog on the head.

He barked, though I'm not sure he even remotely understood my words. His eyes were black, blank, and soulless. I appreciated his outburst nonetheless.

A buzz had started in the town about the upcoming Flower Dance now that the Egg Festival was over. Dances weren't my cup of tea generally, and my choices for dance partners were horrifyingly limited. Haley and Alex both thought I was weird, too pale, and uninteresting – Haley still threw in random "Ew"s as I walked by while Alex told me to leave him alone. Leah, Elliott, Harvey, and Maru were all more interested in their work than in getting to know me; there was only so much one-sided conversation I could make. Shane was surly unless I plied him with beer, Abigail was irritable unless she avoided interacting with her father, and Emily was too unencumbered a soul for me to understand. Penny spent most of her time with children, and I hated children. I could not imagine Sebastian dancing, and Sam… Come to think of it, Sam was probably my best bet for a dance partner. He was still an ass, though.

The last dance I had gone to was my high school prom, so I wasn't sure what to expect, but it was the weekend before the Flower Dance when I ran into Sam in his house. I had just given his mom a potato for dinner and decided to pop into his room for a quick hello. I was mostly over the Egg Festival date mishap now, but had decided not to give the scoundrel anything unless he had monetary payment.

"Hey, farmer," he gave me his most dazzling grin. He stood by his guitar, and I wondered if I had interrupted him during his practice. "I haven't seen you in a few days."

I shrugged. "I've been busy."

"Well, are you too busy right now? I have a situation for you." He smirked and I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'd like to start a band, but I don't know what kind of music we should make. There are too many possibilities. What kind of music do you like?"

I chewed my bottom lip. "All sorts of weird things."

Sam gave me a cautious look. "That's not a kind of music."

I raised my hands in mock surrender. "Okay, how about experimental noise rock?"

His expression shifted suddenly to one of revelation. "Hey, you know what? That's exactly the kind of style I've been thinking about for the band." Sam flashed a grin.

"That's great, I guess."

"And," he shot at me with finger pistols, "you're in luck! We're just about to have a jam session."

"Jam session?" I asked blankly.

At that moment, Sebastian pushed the door open, all nonchalance and ease. "Hey Sam." He froze, his eyes growing large as he realized I was in the room as well.

"Hey Sebastian," Sam said, grinning at his surprise. "I've found us a manager."

I raised my hands and shook my head repeatedly. "No, hey, no, I did not agree to anything."

"Oh come on, you decided what kind of music we should play," Sam said, the smile still plastered on his face.

Sebastian was silent, studying me. "What did you pick?"

I swallowed. "Experimental noise rock."

He nodded slowly, haltingly. "Okay." Hesitant approval from the dark prince himself. What an achievement.

"Great!" Sam yelled, grabbing both of us and giving us a large hug altogether. My face was dangerously close to Sebastian's, but he didn't seem to mind beyond the flush that tinged his cheeks.

We broke apart finally.

"Wait," Sam said, a look of wariness on his face, "do you two even know each other?"

"Yes," Sebastian and I said at the same time. We exchanged a look and my heart thudded jarringly in my chest.

"Even better!" Sam said, all smiles. "With my guitar skills, and Sebastian's wizardry on the synthesizer, we're gonna be a screaming success. I'm convinced of it!"

I stuck around for their jam session, which didn't sound all that bad, surprisingly. It was early afternoon when I was finally able to extricate myself from Sam's room, and I headed for the mountain, ready for some time alone in the caves. The rhythm of cracking open stones tired out my mind and body, but it gave me peace. It was nearly 8pm when I emerged, my energy running precariously low.

I sat down on the grass, opting to rest under the boughs of a large pine tree. At least, that's what I thought it was. I was still trying to get up to speed on what trees were even around here. Sunset was upon us, and my breath caught as I took in the smattering of colours.

"Find anything good?" I turned and saw Sebastian standing by the lake's edge. Somehow I had missed seeing him in my exhaustion. His arms were crossed and a cigarette was balanced between his fingers. He wore his usual black hoodie.

"Mostly rocks and a decent amount of copper ore." I rummaged through my backpack. "Oh, and this other thing." I pulled out a crystal and rapidly polished it with the corner of my shirt. "Quartz." I held it out for him to see.

Sebastian whistled and crouched down beside me. The smell of tobacco filled my head, mixing pleasantly with his aftershave. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was a warmth and comfort to it that overpowered the chilliness of the evening air. "That's a good quality one."

"I didn't know you were an expert on rocks."

"I'm not," he stated flatly.

"Right. Then, how do you know it's of good quality?"

He shrugged, letting himself down to sit on the grass. "Experience. Quartz also happens to be a mineral that I don't hate."

"You have actually developed hatred for certain minerals." I was unsure if I was really as incredulous as I sounded. "Man, and I thought I had issues."

He laughed, which took me by surprise. "Now I'm curious. What are your issues? Besides helping Sam pick a type of music for us to play."

I chewed my bottom lip and narrowed my eyes at him. "You agreed to the noise rock. You didn't have to." I crossed my arms and composed myself. "My issues aren't really issues. There's nothing big." I gave a half-shrug, reticent to reveal much more. "A lot of it stems from my adjusting to living here. I can't say that it's gone as smoothly as I'd hoped."

"You're only making me more curious."

I grimaced. "Alright, well, people haven't been as welcoming as I had hoped. Sure, some folks will talk to me about their work, and they'll pass on some basic tips for farming or foraging, but that's as far as they go."

Sebastian remained quiet, pre-occupied with his thoughts. He gestured for me to continue.

I shifted my weight. "I'm blowing it out of proportions, I think. It's really a non-issue." I clasped my hands over my lap. "It's only been three weeks; I'm overthinking things. I'm expecting too much of everyone and everything." I stopped and peered over at him.

His hand not holding his cigarette was supporting his chin. He absently rubbed it and finally spoke. "I think you've got an idealized vision of country life, and you're forgetting that we're all just human."

I raised my hands in despair. "I just want people to like me."

He struggled to hide a smile. "I think that's what most people want."

A boldness took control of me. "Is that what you want?"

"Of course," he said softly, and it struck me that he was offering up his vulnerability to me. He was giving me another glimpse of his heart, and I had the freedom to do as I liked with it in this instant. I felt the familiar sense of panic rise within me.

"Too bad," I said too quickly, too loudly, "because people are hideous, selfish, fickle creatures."

The vulnerability passed, the window closed. A tristesse pulled his lips, and the mask came down once more. His mask was bemused. "Why do you think that?"

I pressed my lips into a line and thought for a moment, the panic subsiding. "People only care about themselves. It doesn't matter what the setting or the environment is. It's the same everywhere."

"And what about you? Are you selfish?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation prefacing my word. "I moved out here because I am selfish. I wanted to get myself into a better situation, one where I wasn't working under some mega-corporation's thumb all day. I didn't even think about how being a farmer would affect the town or people around me, or even how it would affect my parents." I wrapped my arms around myself. "I am not a thoughtful person."

We sat in silence for a time, each of us entrenched in our own maelstrom of thoughts. The sky was more blue and purple than pink, and the first glints of starshine had begun to scintillate.

Out of the burgeoning darkness, he spoke. "I don't see it as a selfishness." Sebastian took a drag of his cigarette and blew a stream of smoke out, away from me, yet tendrils of it clung to my hair, my skin. "That's self-preservation. What would have happened if you had stayed where you were?"

I didn't answer right away. Part of me longed to keep the moment pristine and anticipatory. Another part of me wished for this night to linger on endlessly. In the calm of the dusk, my heart beat raucously.

My words were careful. "If I had stayed," I began, "I would have stayed forever. It'd be 9-to-5, plus unpaid overtime. It'd be line-ups for morning coffee, checking my phone for e-mails about system failures, and being shuffled from project to project until the financial review came in, ad nauseam. And then it'd be trepidation and weariness until the day that I find my things packed up, the red tape on my desk, and see the hunched shoulders of my co-workers that last time." I sighed lightly, taking the moment to pull myself out of remembrance. The pit inside me felt more alive than ever, and it scared me. "When you move to the city, Sebastian, don't work for a big corporation. You would become infinitesimally small, and I don't ever wish that on you."

I eyed him, rapt, in another bout of introspection. I unfolded my legs and stretched, suddenly feeling empty. I had talked far too much about myself. In doing so, I had only exhausted myself further, and could not contain the yawn that clobbered me.

"Thanks for the advice," Sebastian said. His eyes were still veiled by rumination, but he pushed himself up, his cigarette balanced between his teeth. "You need to sleep."

I nodded, unable to come up with a witty remark to lighten the mood. He offered me a hand and helped pull me up. His grip was firm and sobering. It wasn't until I was on my feet that I realized what had happened. I was thankful it was too dark to see the embarrassment plain on my face.

"Are you okay to walk back to your farm?"

I waved a hand. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm embarrassed that you helped me up even. I'm just a little tired, I'm not a wimp."

He shrugged, but a wan smile flitted across his face. I walked with him to his house, and we parted ways, our shadows waving good-bye to each other in a beam of moonlight.

My days passed in relative solitude as the town swelled with excitement. This was going to be some dance. I remained unenthused.

When the day of the Flower Dance dawned, I performed my daily crop maintenance before patting Dog on the head and heading into the woods. The townsfolk had done a nice job of decorating the place. There was a rustic charm to the many tubs of flowers placed around the perimeter of the clearing. The dancers were dressed in their outfits already, tugging at tight collars and fluffing out skirts. The men wore form-fitting blue-green jumpsuits while the women wore frilly white dresses. A few of the ladies also sported flower crowns.

Everyone was already here, I realized, and heads turned my way as I approached. I hoped that there was no expectation for me to dance today. I had been single for all of my life – I had even gone to prom without a partner. It wasn't that it hadn't bothered me, but rather that there had been less of an expectation in the city somehow. Some people were destined to wander through life without someone, and the city seemed to underscore that loneliness with every star that it blotted out.

I spoke to everyone I ran into, determined to prove some unknown point about my happiness and self-confidence. No, I did not have a partner, and no, I was not bothered by that fact. What, dancing, me? No, no, I didn't even know the dance moves, how could I possibly take part? I didn't want to sully the valley's dance with my ignorance.

When I came to Sebastian, I had to stifle a laugh. He was wearing the turquoise one-piece that the other bachelors wore, but his face was beet red. It was a nice contrast of colours, actually.

"Hi," I said stoically, facing Sebastian.

He looked at me expectantly, "…yes?"

"I believe the proper response is a greeting, not a question."

He gave me an exasperated look. "I'm not in the mood for greetings. I just want to get out of this stupid outfit and out of here."

"Fine," I said, crossing my arms. Against my wishes, my heart pounded painfully in my chest. "Do you want to dance with me?" I tried to keep my tone light and jocular. I was just trying to cheer him up, I reminded myself.

But still, I knew his answer before he said it. "There's someone else I want to dance with." There was a glimmer of apology amongst his irritation, and I saw his gaze flick towards Abigail, who stood not far away. I wonder how many chickens she had sacrificed to get Sebastian to dance with her. Perhaps she had sacrificed her father – oh no, wait, he was here at a booth selling flower-themed goods.

I shrugged. "That's cool. Whatever. I don't envy you or your dance partner. Those outfits are hideous."

"You don't need to tell me that." He looked miserable, and I took especial delight in it.

"Have fun dancing, sucker," I hissed.

He gave me a withering look, but didn't say anything in reply as the mayor signalled for the dance to start. A deep, dark part of me was satisfied that I was partner-less today. I was still marked by the city, and it felt like a scarlet letter stamped on my forehead. I did not belong here.

I stood near the back of the crowd, watching the dance. All at once I was thankful that I myself didn't have to join them, the 12 individuals twirling and waving their arms in front of me. I wasn't a fan of making a fool of myself, especially not in front of a group of people who had not quite accepted me. The physicality of dancing rubbed me raw and I could not deny a certain coldness that hit me square in the chest as I watched them. I knew that the dance didn't mean anything necessarily – people partnered up with whoever they felt comfortable being seen publicly with. Most if not all of these couples had their bases entirely in friendship, not going any deeper than that, at least as far as I knew. And I was on relatively decent terms with most of them. I had been here for less than one season, I reminded myself. I had to cut myself some slack. Friendships didn't bloom overnight, never mind romantic relationships.

But that coldness gnawed at me and I relented, letting the bite of loneliness rip through me. The beast was hungry and it whispered to me about the depths of my heart and the dark places no one would ever love. I turned away from the dance before me. There were no eyes on me, I was sure, so I quietly slipped out of the clearing.