Author's notes: Well, this is definitely the longest chapter yet! Although, I wish it wasn't this long -_- But, at the same time, I find this chapter and all its contents completely necessary for the very beginning of the story. Once again, thank you for the feedback for those who responded to the first two installments of this story. I hope to hear from you all again!

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Chapter Three:
Cowboys and Cocktails

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"Looks like there's just houses here," Mark concluded as the pair made their way into the neighboring island, Sprout Island, from Verdure Island. His eyes calculatingly scanned the open area before looking back at Chelsea who was still brushing the dirt and sand from her clothes. "That's an inn, I think," he pointed to the closest large building beside them, "we could check it out if you want."

Chelsea shrugged, impartial. "It doesn't matter. It's getting late though." She titled her chin skyward, shielding her eyes with a hand as she squinted at the sun that continued to slowly dip toward the ocean's horizon. "The pier looks nice."

"Well come on then," Mark smiled at her, giving her a gentle tug as he led her toward the dock. "We'll watch the sunset." She laughed at his suggestion. "What? A guy can't like nature and all that jazz too?"

"Shush," she rolled her eyes, jabbing him lightly in the rib. He smirked, leading her toward the end of the pier. As they approached the wooden dock, Chelsea squealed in surprise as a fishing rod had sprung out of the ocean and crashed onto the sturdy pier next to what appeared to be a metal box filled with even more fishing gear. Mark tensed beside the brunette, immediately stepping ahead of his friend.

After another loud splash, the two watched as a pair of hands grabbed the edge of the dock, and up came a half-naked boy hoisting himself onto the pier. He wiped himself off with his hands the best he could, looking up in surprise at his unannounced audience standing rigidly feet away.

"Oh!" he blinked. "Sorry about that!" He laughed smoothly before shrugging. "Lost my fishing pole so I dived in to get it. Didn't think I'd hop back up on the pier to anyone."

"Oh dear goddess," Chelsea mumbled under her breath as the shirtless boy approached them, his golden tan skin glistening from the leftover water that settled momentarily on his flesh. The separated droplets gleamed under the sun's warm glow and he sheepishly ran a hand through his curly wet hair, slicking it back, and set his fishing gear down next to him before holding out a hand.

"Denny," he offered, smiling handsomely.

"Chelsea," she managed to choke out, refraining herself from completely gawking at the boy standing in front of her.

"I'm Mark," greeted the blond once Denny had let go of Chelsea's hand and extended it toward him. "Is that your boat?" He eyed the lavish yacht docked at the end of the pier.

Denny shook his head. "Nah. That's Will's. Have you met him? He's the tall British chap," he mocked an English accent for his last sentence, grinning at them when they shook their heads. He dropped the accent that twisted the sound of his words, before informing lightly, "ah. Well, he's Sabrina's cousin." He furrowed his eyebrows when the pair's expressions remained blank at the mention of a new name. "You haven't met Sabrina either?"

"We didn't want to intrude," Mark explained honestly. "Where we come from, you don't normally knock on anyone's door that you don't know; even if they're your next door neighbor."

Denny appeared stricken from their normal and rather unfriendly customs they were rooted upon. "Really? That sounds terrible!" he let a bellow of a laugh erupt from him as he bent down to grab his gear before straightening back up again, "Well, how 'bout this, I'll talk to Nick about using his diner for the night and we'll celebrate your arrival to Sunshine Islands. I'll invite everyone so you can meet them."

"That's awfully nice of you," the brunette mumbled, rather embarrassed by the gesture.

Mark looked slightly uncomfortable too. "Yeah man, you don't have to do that if it's a lot of trouble."

The fisherman waved his hands dismissively at them. "Don't even worry about it. Besides, it's not like anyone's going to complain about having an opportunity to drink. I dunno if everyone will show up on such short notice, but we'll see, right?"

And with that, the quick and frantic planning and inviting began.

A few hours later, Mark and Chelsea and found themselves at the diner currently inhabiting most of the young folk of the town. A few of the older citizens had made brief appearances at the celebration, welcoming Mark and Chelsea to their islands, but left shortly after to close shops or to retire for the evening. Eventually, the population of the diner had dwindled down to only the young adults; the alcohol and their own festering curiosity regarding the newcomers insisting them to stay.

Chelsea was currently surrounded by three girls around her age, all sitting off to the side at a round table while they chattered and gossiped with one another. Lanna, a popstar on somewhat of a "break" as she called it, dazzled the girls with her fame-induced stories, swishing her glossy dyed blonde hair over her shoulders as she reached the dramatic parts of her Hollywood adventures. Natalie, a girl with light red hair equipped with significant amounts of pink hues in her locks, rolled her eyes, seeming to chug her glass of wine every time Lanna shrieked on about something. Julia, who Mark and Chelsea had met earlier, however listened in awe to every word the popstar exaggerated.

Once Lanna's tales had momentarily came to an end, Julia turned to Chelsea, asking politely, "so how do you like the islands so far?"

"They're actually very nice. A lot cleaner than the city," smiled Chelsea.

"That's good to hear," the southern bell beamed. She glanced at Natalie next, questioning, "where's Pierre tonight?"

"On some baking spree; last time I talked to him he thought he discovered the Holy Grail of all recipes or something like that." Natalie shrugged before leaning toward the new farmer. "Alright, enough with the small talk though, let's cut to the chase." She craned her neck further to stare tentatively at Chelsea with raised eyebrows. "How long?"

"How long what?" blinked the brunette.

Natalie frowned. "You and Mark," she said pointedly. When Chelsea's face remained blank, the girl frowned further. "You and Mark aren't married?"

"Oh," Chelsea blushed awkwardly, "ah, well, n-no, actually."

"Engaged then?" The brunette's expression failed to falter and Julia pressed on, "dating?"

"We're just friends," the farmer answered lamely. "Best friends. We've known each other since freshman year of high school. We became roommates during our third year of college."

Natalie clicked her tongue in almost distaste before taking a sip of her wine. "You two went to the same college too?"

"Not intentionally," reassured Chelsea. "It was just a community college." She looked at the three girls that continued to lean closer onto their table, tentatively listening carefully to every sentence the new girl said; as if they were hanging onto her words with spiraling fascination and building anticipation. She felt her cheeks flush from the foreign attention that had, strongly against her will, been placed upon her. "Sorry, did I offend you girls…?"

Lanna was the first to snap out the trance that had washed over her, resting back into her chair as she shook her head. She smirked as Chelsea glanced at her warily and poured herself another glass of the dark colored alcohol before replying, "oh no, darling, it's just people out here are a bit… backward you could say."

Julia's mouth gaped open in offense while Natalie glared darkly at her. In return the popstar didn't falter the slightest nor flinch the least, disregarding the other two girls that were seated with her and Chelsea. She shrugged dismissively, withholding all remorse –– if she had any to begin with –– for incidentally upsetting them. Instead, she continued without missing a beat.

"Women in this town normally live with their families or by themselves until they're married. I guess it's a bit outlandish to them that you and your cute friend are living in the same small quarters without any kind of romantic relation between you two, but they'll get over the initial shock soon. I wouldn't bother worrying about it."

"It's not like we look down upon you two," Natalie added, coldly turning her cheek pointedly away from Lanna. "We just assumed you and Mark were together because of your living circumstances. Which," she side-glanced sourly at the popstar before returning her vision back onto the brunette, "isn't completely crazy to think."

Julia nodded, giving Chelsea a small smile. "I thought you two were so cute together when you came into the store earlier. I just figured you two were newly married."

"Have you two ever," Lanna wiggled her eyebrows. "you know?"

Chelsea could tell the apples of her cheeks lit at the popstar's less than subtle suggestive implication, and shook her head feverishly in response. "O-oh no, definitely not. I mean, Mark's a wonderful guy and everything! But, we just never, ah, crossed that bridge I guess?"

"Hm," replied Lanna, her spirits deflated at the farmer's evidently dull answer. "I see."

The brunette sunk farther into her chair, glancing at Mark while Natalie began to argue viciously with the popstar regarding the town's standard morals and opinions. The blond boy was currently chatting with Cliff, the man that Mark mentioned to Chelsea who often visited Sunshine Islands from Mineral Town, and Denny. Elliot, Natalie's older brother, sat near them; offering the rest of the boys his quiet, indifferent comments here and there.

She refrained herself from cocking an eyebrow as her friend snuck quick glances once and a while toward her table, obviously eying the pretty girls surrounding her, and toward the other side of the diner. Her eyes trailed after his and she found her vision falling on the exotic Asian girl they had briefly met during the start of the night. Before she could allow her mind to race with curious thoughts, Chelsea quickly looked back to the girls when she heard Julia say her name; engaging in another conversation about her mundane life back home with the stunning girl.

"It's good to see you," Cliff mumbled to Mark when Denny had left them briefly to grab a few more cans of beer.

"Always a pleasure," beamed Mark. "How's my sister doing? As opinionated and hotheaded as ever, I presume?"

The rather reserved traveler grinned faintly. "Claire's a nice girl. She's always helping out the town when she can."

"I'm sure she adds her two cents in every now and then," the blond farmer chuckled. "Good to hear she's doing well though. I haven't talked to her in a few days. How's Ann? You still talking to her? Or, trying to at least?"

Cliff flushed at the mention of the redhead's name. "Oh, um, she's…"

"Hey Will!" Denny's voice had risen a few notches, drowning out the rest of Cliff's words and the two boys, along with Elliot, looked toward the fisherman. "Stop being antisocial with Lily and come talk to us, yeah?"

The nobleman smiled politely at the gathering group of young men before leaning forward to whisper something into the dark-haired girl's ear and as he moved away, she nodded. He dipped his head into a slight bow before gingerly taking her petite hand in his, kissing the top of hers gently, and made his way to Mark's area, waving at the boys respectively and accepted the beer Denny graciously offered him.

He popped the metal lid of the can open with a faint hiss releasing from it, greeting the four boys a charming "good evening gentlemen" with a much better version of the English accent Denny had poorly imitated earlier.

The fisherman patted Will's shoulder roughly, grinning sloppily as he spoke, "thatta boy; didn't think I could tear you out of Lily's clutches."

"The fair maiden is far too delicate to have such a thing as an unrefined 'clutch'. She draws me in with her exquisite words and manners," corrected the tall blond before taking a generous sip of his drink.

Denny rolled his eyes, giving Mark a look as he finished his fourth beer. "My mistake."

"Your lady is quite pretty too," Will commented, glancing at Mark.

"You mean Chelsea?" the farmer blinked, flushing. "Oh yeah, I mean, she's beautiful, but she's just my friend. We've been friends for years." He paused momentarily, biting the inside of his cheek, and subtly prodded despite the weary feeling that he may be prying a bit too far, "are you and Lily together?" Will arched his eyebrows questionably, though the blond aristocrat seemed quite naive at the same given time, and Mark surmised his underlying meddling was masked with innocent curiosity.

"He prays," laughed the fisherman. "Only guy here that's really committed is Elliot."

Elliot blushed when the surrounding men all looked at him. He shrunk back into the chair, averting their unwavering gazes. "J-Julia's, uh, well Julia's…" he trailed off, seemingly incapable of articulating his thoughts of the pretty blonde sitting a few feet away.

"Julia's your girlfriend?" Mark asked rather bluntly, unable to contain himself.

Granted, Elliot wasn't a bad looking boy; he just seemed too mild-tempered and meek to catch the eye of someone with Julia's caliber. It wasn't as if the southern belle oozed a shallow perception or outlook, but she seemed like she'd fall for someone's audacious charm akin to Denny's or maybe even to refined words laced with fairytale promises like Will's.

"Practically," Denny yawned. "She's been chasing after him since they were kids. She seemed to really take a liking to you though, city boy."

Mark choked on his beer, rubbing his chest as he coughed up the liquid. He caught a glimpse of Elliot from the corner of his eye, noting hopelessness that filled the meek man's sulking stature and frowned in empathy. "I'm really not here to date," he stated lightly, watching Elliot sigh in relief. "Besides, the plan is to eventually move back to the city once we're financially secure anyway."

"Who knows though," shrugged the fisherman. "You could find the woman of your dreams here without even intending too."

"Denny's correct," Will insisted. "I came to the islands upon my father's request to see the world outside of my family's regale one. Little did I know coming to this particular area would I be given the riveting chance to meet Lily."

Mark glanced at the exotic girl who finished her glass of water she had been sipping on during her conversation with Will, politely pushing it aside as she rose to her feet. She flattened out her foreign-styled ruby red dress that clung to her petite form and looked over toward the table occupied with the group of girls. Julia eagerly waved Lily over and the pretty girl, with slight hesitation, edged her way over.

"Ah, looks like the odd couple finally decided to show up."

Upon Denny's snide comment, the farmer looked to the door only to see the steely cowboy he and Chelsea literally bumped into earlier outside of Mirabelle's store and a small girl with long dark hair accompanying him. Will coughed uncomfortably at their untimely arrival.

The dark-haired fisherman smirked at the aristocrat. "I forgot how much a fan you and your uncle are of Vaughn." He glanced toward the pair, cocking an eyebrow. "I thought he and Sabrina broke up?"

"They've remained friends," Will said stiffly.

"Right," Denny wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Mark as he repeated, "they've remained friends." He chuckled sheepishly when the nobleman's cheeks flushed with frustration and sheer disapproval at the relations between his pretty cousin and the patronizing cowboy. "I wouldn't get too worked up Will; especially when you can't even look the guy in the eye to articulate how much you hate him being near your precious cousin."

"Says the only guy on the islands that can," pointed out Elliot. He quickly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand nervously when Denny snorted confidently, giving him a quick glare that made the redhead recoil and fall silent.

Will frowned. "I truly cannot fathom how you've maintained a friendship with such a presumptuous being."

"You're just pissed he punched you square in the eye that night you found Sabrina sneaking around with him on the pier last year," Denny snapped.

The alcohol meant to loosen the tension between the men suddenly appeared to add a little more friction to the group. Mark bit his bottom lip, exchanging a glance with Cliff who simply shrugged; unable nor capable of squashing the change of mood and atmosphere before things began to get too out of hand. Him, Mark, and Elliot were simply stuck watching an unraveling shift of events at the arrival of the cowboy who slithered himself into the diner.

"Maybe we should change the subject," Elliot suggested quietly.

The underlying anger that currently boiled within the two young men seemed to have abruptly peeled away. Embarrassed from the previous discussion had taken such a turn for the worst, both Will and Denny mumbled apologies, clinking beers as a visual sign that they had made amends, and began talking about the abnormally nice weather the middle of spring had brought them.

Mark held back a sigh before slapping a forced smile on his face as he returned back to the cooled down conversation Denny and Will engaged themselves in; Cliff and Elliot still barely a part of the intoxicated small talk. He didn't know why, but as the night raged on, he had an uneasy feeling wash over his body.