"Alright, well," Sebastian began, a frown creasing his brow, "I have to get going."

His frown was infectious and I caught his friends mirroring the expression. "We only played one round, though," Sam protested, putting down his pool cue with a clatter. He looked stricken and appalled.

Sebastian sighed, his shoulders rising and falling with the sound. "I know," he said, and I could tell he was irritated from the roughness of his tone. "I have to get going, though. There's too much work for me to do."

Abigail shook her head, lips twisted into a deep frown. "Seriously?"

"Yes," he said, and his tone sliced through the disappointment of his peers like a blade through hot butter. An uncomfortable silence filled the space, juxtaposed against the busy chattering of the saloon's main dining area. No one out there seemed aware of the frustrations brewing on our side.

"Hey," I said, pushing myself up from the couch where I had been lounging, talking to Abigail. I was finding her company a lot better now that the air was cleared between us. "It's fine. We get it." I threw the both of them meaningful looks. In response, Abigail gave a hesitant nod while Sam only offered a blank stare. "I can walk you home," I said.

Sebastian shook his head. "No, it's raining and gross out. I don't want to trouble you."

"You know that I don't mind," I replied with a faint smile, but had a feeling of where this was going.

He sighed, and the sadness of it scratched the edge of my soul. "I know, but I'm going to be going really fast. I shouldn't have stayed out 'til now in the first place." His shoulders slumped. "There's still some time, though, you should all have fun for the rest of the evening."

I could tell from the finality of his tone that he wanted this time alone, away from all of us, to be allowed the freedom of his thoughts. I had no doubts that his mind was already elsewhere, lost in the intricacies and complexities of software development and worrisome deadlines.

"Okay, well, since you insist," I said and gave him a peck on the cheek.

Sam grumbled something indistinguishable under his breath, but clapped Sebastian on the shoulder with a heavy hand. Abigail stayed where she was seated on the couch and nodded her farewell as she raised a hand.

Something of a grateful smile flitted across his lips as he strode out of the room and gave a half-wave back to us.

A new kind of silence surrounded us, one that was foreign and thin. The music from the jukebox filtered over to us beneath the patter of footsteps thumping in time to the beat, and the sounds of raucous laughter. Conversation buzzed over to us, inaudible in its details, but precise in its tone and cadence. And yet, it was eerily quiet in our part of the saloon. It was never just the three of us hanging out; despite his quiet disposition, Sebastian was the glue that had brought us all together. It felt strange not to have him here now, and the silence yawned and stretched around us as we looked each other over.

I cleared my throat, but no words or conversation came to me.

Finally, a sigh whistled through Sam's lips. "I wish he wasn't so busy," he said glumly, and he truly had the air of a dejected pup. He looked sadder than Dog ever did, and I was struck by how much his current state contrasted against his usually sunny demeanour.

"Me too," Abigail said softly, and let out a sigh of her own.

Sam grimaced. "I don't even get why he's so busy anyway. It's just code. It's just work. I don't let my work get in the way of things like friendship."

I raised an eyebrow, feeling a crackle of warmth swell within me. "Well," I began, chewing my bottom lip, "it's not just that. He might be living at home, but he's pretty independent. Like he makes his own meals and does his own laundry. He doesn't have much to do with the rest of his family. Beyond room and board, they don't take care of him."

Sam frowned. "Hmm, I guess so," he said, dubiety sharpening his tone.

Trying to keep the exasperation out of my sigh but failing miserably, I added, "It's hard to understand, but he has to manage his time really carefully. Making meals, doing laundry, actually doing his work, seeing me—heck, seeing all of us. It's a lot." I nodded at the two of them. "And it's not like you can just sit down and code something. You have to communicate with your team, you have to get a good grasp on what the issue is, then research your solution, and design the system. You have to rework old code, you have to write new code, and you have to review other people's code. It's a process in and of itself."

Sam continued to frown, but he nodded slowly, stiffly. "That sounds like more than I would've thought," he paused, "but I'm pretty sure his mom would cook his meals and do his laundry if he asked."

Another light sigh drifted out of Abigail. "He probably feels like he'd be a burden on his mom," she stated, picking a piece of lint off her shirt and tossing it onto the floor.

Nodding, I cast a grateful look at her. "Yes, exactly."

Not everyone leeches off their family, I thought, trying not to be too pointed with the glances I gave them both. Did Sam make enough money as a janitor to support himself? Was he turning any profits from selling his band's records? As far as I knew, they didn't have any other merch. And were any profits from album sales split among the three of them? I thought of Abigail then, too. As far as I knew, she only worked part-time at her dad's store. It seemed unlikely that she would be able to support herself either, should she be forced to move out anytime soon. I thought about the cohorts and friends I had had growing up, and where they had ended up. So many of them had had to work during middle school and high school in order to pay for college and rent as they had moved out of their family homes. It was all so different from the state that Sam and Abigail were in. In comparison, the other unmarried folk out here were a lot closer to my ideas of normalcy.

Although, I reminded myself, rent and property were considerably cheaper out here compared to back in the city. A memory surfaced in my mind of finding out that Abe's was shutting down during my trip to Zuzu City with Sebastian. As much as that news had surprised me, it was all too often the case in the city as costs of living and operating businesses skyrocketed with every passing season. I couldn't apply my urban concepts of rent and owning property to Stardew Valley. They were completely different worlds.

And yet when I thought of Sebastian, I recalled how determined he had been to move to the city, how sure, how desperate. He must have saved up quite a bit of money to be that confident, but given his vocation, it didn't surprise me that he had had the funds to leave on that day when I'd thought I'd thoroughly lost him. It made sense that he would live at home while he saved up for a place in the urban jungle. That was certainly one aspect in which he seemed well-suited to the city, that ravenous place full of hungry people—hungry for wealth, hungry for hustle and bustle, hungry for fame. Sebastian was hungry for escape and understanding, and I could easily see how the city could offer those things to him at least in spirit, if not in actuality.

But here we are again, I thought dryly. Sam and Abigail still didn't get it, after all these years, and after my trying to explain it. Was I the only one in the entire valley who understood that what Sebastian did was a real job, one that brought in a decent income and a generous amount of independence? He was eligible a bachelor as any of them, and yet he himself didn't see it. I thought of the mermaid's pendant in my bag.

"Yo, farmer," Sam said, peering into my face.

I startled out of my thoughts.

"Earth to farmer. Come in, farmer."

"Oh for shit's sake," I said, shaking my head from side to side.

"You seemed lost there for a bit." Sam shrugged.

Abigail eyed me with her head tilted just to the side, her blue gaze curious. "What's on your mind?" Her smile was encouraging, and her eyes were kind. I took in a breath, teetering between the truth and a lie.

Sam leaned closer, studying me as concern lined his brow.

I swallowed and decided to be truthful. They were my friends, after all. Besides Sebastian, they were my closest.

"So," I said, and hesitated, taking a deep breath. They looked at me curiously. "How do you guys feel about marriage?"

They stared at me.

"Are"—Sam paused—"are you asking us?" He waggled his eyebrows and gave me a lascivious grin. "For a three-way marriage?"

"No, no." I shook my head violently and held back on dignifying Sam's question with a real response. "I mean specifically... about me and Sebastian." The lump in my throat gave way. "I got this thing." I pulled the mermaid's pendant out of my backpack, trying to ignore how clammy my hands were. "I was thinking of giving it to Sebastian."

The both of them leaned in closer, Abigail rising to her feet, their mouths gaping.

"Is that really a—?"

"No way, that has to be a—"

"It's a mermaid's pendant," I explained lamely. I took in the impressed looks on their faces. "So what do you both think, as his closest friends?"

Abigail began to shake her head and I felt my heart sink like a rock in free fall. "No," she said plainly, "you're his closest friend."

Relief washed over me like rain drenching a raging forest fire. "Oh, right. Okay," I bobbed my head, "so what do you think, as his good, long-time friends?"

"So, for me, personally," Sam began, sounding uncharacteristically matter-of-fact, "I don't see a problem with it."

"Thank you, Sam," I beamed.

He narrowed an eye at me. "But don't go stealing away all his time with us."

I stared at him. "Sam," I said, unable to keep the exasperation out of my voice once more. "It's not like I'm going to stop being your friend. We already hang out all together most of the time."

He pondered this for a moment. "I mean, yeah, I guess so."

"Well," Abigail cut in, tone thoughtful, "I think it's a great idea. You'll get to see him more, he'll get to see you more. That'll make him very happy, and you too, I think."

"Oh yeah, and you can cook his food and do his laundry," Sam said with a small amount of amazement. "Man, being married sounds kind of good. Almost as good as living at home."

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help but smile. I really was glad that both seemed on board with my plan. "Well, I'm glad neither of you object."

"No, definitely not," Abigail said with a serene smile.

"I mean," Sam said impatiently, "just promise not to ever break his heart again."

"Don't be a dingus," I retorted, but my cheeks were burning as I remembered that fateful meeting after my visit to Rasmodius's tower. Oh Yoba, that had been disastrous. Perhaps Sam had some right to being wary this time. If our roles were reversed and I was him, would I entrust Sebastian's heart to me, the farmer who had wronged my best friend? Probably not, I thought with a sigh of my own. "I love Sebastian," I explained, as though I was pleading my case pitifully. The words had just slipped out, but I realized that there was no shame in them for me. It was the truth and I was proud to say it.

Sam narrowed his eyes at me and brought his extended index and middle fingers up to them. He pointed first at his own eyes, and then at me, and repeated the gesture several times. "I'm watching you. You know, I'm holding you to this. Make Sebastian happy. Or else."

I glared at him and found that my gaze was met with an unexpected iciness. "Of course I'm going to do it," I said as my face warmed. "You can count on me to do right by him. Now and forever."

Sam began a slow nod, but said nothing. I wondered vaguely if it had been unwise of me to share my intentions with him and Abigail.

Too late now, I thought dully.