Chapter Text
Rachel arrived home on Friday afternoon, dropped her bag in the entryway, and kicked off her shoes and socks. The tiles felt cool beneath her tired, achy feet as she made her way to the bathroom. After washing her hands and splashing some water on herself, she closed her eyes and pressed a towel to her face. When she opened her eyes again, Rachel was looking at herself in the mirror. It had been another long week of trying her best but never seeming to get anywhere closer to her goals - and it showed. She frowned at the new zit that threatened to erupt on her skin and resisted the urge to fiddle with it.
Her tummy grumbled, pulling her out of her thoughts. She tottered to the kitchen, and before she even realised what she was doing, she had prepared some instant noodles and had taken a fizzy drink from the fridge. She was sitting on a kitchen stool and waiting for her nutritious meal to cook itself, when she suddenly sprang up. At last! She couldn’t believe she had forgotten: all week she had been looking forward to winding down and playing her favourite video game, Stardew Valley. And now she finally had the chance. Quickly grabbing her bowl and drink, she marched to her bedroom with a new pep in her step.
She slipped into a baggy sleep shirt as she waited for her laptop to turn on. Excitement bubbled in her chest as she thought about her virtual farm, her villager friends, and the life she had built for herself in Stardew Valley. Sometimes - especially on weeks like this one - she wished she could just get away from her IRL routine and be a farmer making a living for herself in a new town.
But it wasn’t just the idyllic countryside life that drew her to the world of Stardew Valley. Rachel couldn’t hold back the little grin on her face as she thought about a certain inhabitant of the town - Shane. It was silly enough to feel so giddy about a fictional guy, but to feel so giddy about a fictional depressed shelf stocker with a drinking problem was simply unfathomable. She would never date a man like Shane in real life, knowing her family would expect her to choose someone more stable and accomplished. But that sort of thing didn’t matter in Stardew Valley.
Rachel sat cross-legged on her bed and blew on her noodles, holding them up with the flimsy disposable chopsticks that came in the package. The opening theme played from her laptop in front of her as the game menu appeared. She slurped the noodles and then reached forward to load her previous save. She’d made quite a bit of progress on her farm and even a little bit of progress on her relationship with Shane. One night, as they sat together on the pier overlooking Cindersap Pond, he had finally opened up to her. He had been hesitant to let her get close to him at first, but that made her even more determined to win his heart.
With that thought, she loaded up her save. It was peaceful in her room, and she suddenly realised how tired she was. She’d just play a little bit, she decided, and then she’d get ready for bed.
***
Rachel woke up to soft light filtering through sheer curtains, and the trees outside her window gently swaying and casting dappled shadows across the room. Her laptop lay next to her on the bed, its battery dead. The remainder of the instant noodles was there too, cold and congealed in the cardboard bowl. She rubbed her eyes, stretched, and nestled deeper under her duvet. Then she sat up with a start. She didn’t have trees outside her bedroom window!
She took in her surroundings properly for the first time. The rustic wooden interior of the room felt unfamiliar, yet oddly reminiscent. “Oh my god, it’s finally happening,” she murmured to herself. “I knew this week was too much for me. I’m actually having a psychotic break.” What other explanation was there for her seemingly waking up in her Stardew Valley farmhouse?!
Deciding to make the most of the situation while it lasted, she hopped out of bed and went to the en suite bathroom. Her reflection surprised her. Her skin was sun-kissed and clear, all signs of exhaustion replaced by the well-rested glow of a person who slept well every night after a hard day of farm work. The pimple from the day before was nowhere to be found. Even her hair looked healthier.
Rachel grabbed the now lukewarm fizzy drink from her nightstand, and made her way out of the bedroom. The front room had the same hardwood flooring as the bedroom, and was furnished with a fireplace, a cosy rug, and a large CRT television. Several multicoloured wooden chests lined the wall on the right. On the left, the kitchen had grey and white chequered linoleum flooring and a simple table and chair. She opened the (empty) fridge, and chucked her fizzy drink inside. She would have to do something about breakfast.
Slipping on the hefty leather boots at the front door, she stepped out onto the porch and surveyed her farm. Cultivated soil still glistened with moisture from the sprinklers, and further in the distance, she could see part of the land that was yet to be cleared of debris. It seemed a monumental task. For now, she would tend to the animals.
It was surprising how easily she slipped into the rhythm of her farm work, as though she had been at it for a long time already. It was 10:00 by the time she was done, and she was ravenous. Her sleep shirt from the night before was now covered in sweat and grime, warranting a shower and a change of clothes - the faded T-shirt and denim overalls she found in the closet would have to do. Then she headed down the dirt path to Pelican Town. The CLOSED sign in Pierre’s window informed her that it was a Wednesday. With the Stardrop Saloon still outside of opening hours, she had no choice but to patronise ye olde JojaMart.
She felt butterflies at the thought. Shane would be there, but she knew from experience he would always ignore her while stocking the shelves. She had planned on waiting until the evening to see him at the saloon, but perhaps he would talk to her now. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, she smoothed down her hair in the reflection in Pierre’s shop window, before continuing down the street to her destination.
She paused on the quaint stone bridge that arched over the stream running through the town, taking a moment to soak in the scene. It dawned on her that she had been in this supposed dream world for several hours now, yet every detail thus far had given no indication that it was anything less than reality. Ignoring the implications of her realisation, she trudged onwards to the JojaMart.
Dodging Morris’s membership sales pitch, she made a beeline for the uniformed figure in one of the aisles: Shane was sitting on a plastic crate and stocking a low shelf. She stood next to him, as he stared straight ahead at the tubs of hair gel he had arranged on the shelf.
“Ahem.” Rachel fake-cleared her throat in an attempt to get his attention.
“We have lozenges at the till if you need some,” said Shane, still not looking up at her.
But he was smiling as he said it, Rachel noted - a small smile that he tried to hide by looking the other way down the aisle. The butterflies in her tummy were now doing somersaults.
“Actually, I’m looking for something to have for breakfast,” she said, lamely, after a pause.
“Aren’t you a farmer, Rachel? Can’t you just grow something? Or fry an egg?”
He said her name! Her face felt warm as she tried to think of a witty response. “Ah, I’m in the mood for something with a bit more preservatives.”
He chuckled softly, and pointed his thumb at the next aisle. “Individually-sealed pancakes. Skip the powdered breakfast, kid.” He was facing her now, his peak cap still mostly shading his eyes, but revealing his stubbled jaw and half-smile.
He was so dreamy. Rachel had to make a conscious effort to tear her gaze away from the hairy, muscular arm gesturing towards the adjacent aisle. “Thanks, stocker Shane,” she said, turning to walk down the aisle.
Suddenly, she felt a hand gently grab hold of her wrist. “I’ll see you at the saloon tonight?” Shane was looking up at her in earnest, and she could see his slightly red-rimmed eyes clearly for the first time. They held a sad, but hopeful - almost desperate - quality as he locked eyes with her.
She nodded blankly, but her heart was racing in her chest. He let go, and she started walking back down the aisle, her mind a flurry of thoughts. When she stole a glance back at him, he quickly averted his gaze. He had been watching her walk away.
Nervous energy surged through her as she turned into the next aisle. That interaction had not gone the way she had expected - in a good way. She quickly located the individually wrapped pancakes, which came in packs of five, and grabbed a pack. Rachel spotted the powdered breakfasts Shane had been referring to and examined them curiously. They appeared to be a powdered mix of dehydrated eggs and potatoes, and the serving suggestion just looked like a bowl of yellow mashed potatoes. With the garnish of chives in the picture, it almost looked appetising. But she trusted Shane’s judgement, and stuck with the pancakes. She grabbed an iced chai latte from the refrigerated section, before paying at the till.
She ate her breakfast on the bench outside the JojaMart. The pancakes were soft, fluffy, and pre-syruped, and thanks to the individual wrappers, she wasn't left with sticky fingers. She downed her refreshing beverage, then headed down to the beach. The early afternoon was spent foraging for shellfish, coral, and sea urchins in the tide pools. She was grateful for the blue plastic JojaMart shopping bag she had kept with her to contain all her forageables. By the time she lugged it down to Willy’s Fish Shop, it was already 2 o’clock. Willy, who was exactly the sweet old guy she had always imagined him to be, congratulated her on her haul.
Rachel stank like fish. After taking a shower for the second time that day (being a farmer was messy business!), she stood in front of the closet in her towel. The feeling of butterflies in her tummy returned as she thought about how she would be seeing Shane that evening. She needed to look her best and those baggy overalls would not do. But first, she would need to find some sustenance.
In one of her poorly organised chests, she managed to find a few field snacks, which she chomped down while looking through the closet again. A few hours later, she emerged from her farmhouse, still in the sturdy leather boots, but now with a rather long grandpa sweater. She didn’t love the ensemble, but she figured it was still better than anything those other townies could have come up with.
It was almost five when she entered the saloon, where the chatter of the patrons and the smell of good food made for a cosy vibe. She politely nodded a greeting to those who looked her way, and took a seat on a barstool - near the fireplace, of course. Emily skipped towards that end of the bar, holding open her little notepad.
“Hiya Rachel, what can I get for you today?”
“Oh, uhh, hey there, Emily. Could I get a cup of coffee?” stuttered Rachel. It was difficult getting used to people just knowing her name like that. “And a margherita, please.” Shane loved pizza, and she always got him one when she dropped by the saloon. She’d let him share this one with her when he got there.
“Sure thing, sweetie,” smiled Emily, walking to the service window to give the order to the kitchen.
Rachel looked around the saloon. Her cellphone had seemingly been left behind back in the real world, so she couldn’t pretend to busy herself with it while she waited. There weren’t many people occupying the few tables and chairs in the room. Through the archway behind her, she could see the arcade machines and pool table she knew about from when she played the game. It felt surreal. Her coffee arrived quickly, and she sipped on it as she thought back to her encounter with Shane that morning. Looking down at the spot where he’d clasped her wrist, she couldn’t hold back a smile. She hoped she’d get to feel his touch again that evening.
Her pizza arrived piping hot, its steam fragrant with the aroma of basil. She wasted no time in grabbing a slice, huffing as she tried to juggle the scalding cheese in her mouth. Rachel was already one slice down when the bell above the door jingled, signalling Shane’s arrival.
Instead of heading to his spot against the wall by the fire, he came up to her from behind and enveloped her in a hug as she sat on the barstool. “Hey you,” he murmured, his stubble brushing against her right cheek. “Sorry I was kinda grumpy at work today…you know how it is. Hey Em, could I get a beer over here?” Rachel could feel the warmth of his body as he pressed against her back. He swayed slightly from side to side as he hugged her a little tighter before letting go. Shane took a seat on the stool next to her and grabbed one of the pizza slices. “Thanks,” he winked.
Rachel tried to appear cool, but internally she felt a giddy mess. “You’re welcome,” she smiled at him. No longer in uniform, Shane was dressed in a worn Joja hoodie, a Tunnelers jersey, cargo shorts and…Crocs?! Rachel suddenly felt a lot less self-conscious about her frumpy outfit. “Those pancakes were really good, by the way,” she said. “I think I’ll write a review of the local JojaMart praising the excellent customer service of their stocker Shane.”
He grinned at her. “Yeah, I really went above and beyond my job description with that one. I’m quite the expert on all Joja products, if I may say so myself. Absolutely stay the fuck away from JojaMeal,” he said, with an exaggerated shudder.
Rachel was surprised at how easily the conversation flowed between them. He was so adorable, even with his tired eyes and ruffled appearance. It didn’t go unnoticed the way he would laugh and put his hand on her shoulder or her knee, or grab her hand when emphasising a point. She didn’t want the night to end, especially with the knowledge that she might not wake up in Stardew Valley tomorrow.
They ended up playing Journey of the Prairie King. Rachel was terrible at the game, and when Shane stood behind her and put his hands over hers on the joystick, her brain practically shut down. After dying a few more times in game, he declared her a lost cause and offered to walk her home.
She really hoped he would hold her hand on the way back to the farm, but he didn’t. She walked slowly, trying to extend her time with him. When they finally reached her door, Shane became softer than before. “Thanks for the pizza, really,” he said, somewhat awkwardly. “It’s been fun hanging out with you.” He looked so sweet and sincere in the dim yellow glow of the porch light.
“I had a lot of fun too.” Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, Rachel silently pleaded.
They just gazed into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, until Shane cleared his throat and patted her shoulder. “I’ll see you around then, Rachel.” He turned and walked down the steps. She watched him as he walked southwards down her property. He looked back at her and waved, and she waved back. And then he disappeared into the darkness.
Rachel entered the farmhouse feeling slightly dizzy with emotions. She collapsed on the bed without bothering to change out of her clothes. She felt a bittersweet pang of sadness about the time they had just spent together, knowing it was the last. Why hadn’t she grabbed his hand on the walk over? Why hadn’t she just kissed him at the door? The weight of regret crushed her chest as she lay there, staring up at the wooden ceiling, willing herself not to sleep lest she wake up back in her real bedroom again.
But when 2:00 AM came around, she succumbed to the inevitable embrace of sleep - as she always did.