[Stardew Valley] On the Edge - Shane

1

"...ane...up..."

Through the endless, nauseatingly spinning void, he could barely make out his own name being called. Ane up? What the hell did that mean? And where was he? Two slender fingers pressed into his back firmly, awakening the rest of his senses barely enough to register that he wasn't floating in endless black void. Something cold and wet was plastered to the front of him, and mashed through his hair registered as a rougher, second pair of hands rolled him over onto his back.

"Ohhh....fuuuuck..." A flash of blue hair and a red apron briefly entered his line of spinning sight as he rolled over and ejected the contents of his stomach next to him.

"...ane. Shane. Come on, get up." It's Emily's voice. The waitress at his most frequently visited vice and friend only by default was kneeled down next to him, now coiled back a little to avoid his vomit. He could barely make it out, but there was a larger figure looming behind her.

"...Emily?" He got the word out, swallowing back another wretch. Ugh. Yoba, kill me now. Please.

"The bar's been closed for two hours, dude, you've gotta go home." She pressed, concern written on her face. "Clint, help him up." She looked up towards the sweatered figure behind her, and with a groan, the goateed man complied. He hiked Shane up and his stomach lurched again at the sudden movement. He was too drunk to toss an insult at either of them.

"Do you need help?" She offered, smoothing her muddied apron out with her hands. Oh, he needs help, alright. With several aspects of his life.

"No." Shane spat. Hot anger, or vomit - probably both, bubbled in his throat as he shoved Clint off and stumbled down the snow muddied path and back to the ranch where he lived. Dawn teased at the skyline, the dark blue hue of the sky gradually fading into green. Shit. He really overdid it this time. Too afraid to check his watch, he took one last wretch in the bushes, splashed lake water onto his face and quietly entered the house.

Thankfully, everyone was still asleep when he slunk in. Without thinking of much else, he fell into his bed, trying his best to wipe the remnants of the nights that the beer didn't soak up from his memory.

Except, that didn't really work out. Because his alarm rang promptly, as it always does, at eight o clock. Fifty minutes after he got in. You've got to be fucking kidding. Shane pried his eyes open and shifted on his bed, being made painfully aware that his Joja Slave Corporation uniform jacket was still on, unbuttoned and covered with mud. With an inaudible sigh, he lurched out of his bed, tossed the dirtied shirt aside and kicked past several discarded beer cans to exit his room.

He was a mess. It was nice of his aunt Marnie to let him stay while he saved his money to eventually get his own place, or go back to school, or whatever the fuck he promised her to seem like a stable person who cared about his future. That was months ago, now. Since then, he'd fallen into the horrible routine of waking up, shoving off to Joja Mart for eight hours, then dragging himself to Stardrop and pretending he isn't disappointing himself and probably everyone around him.

The goal was to get to the bathroom before anybody could see his state and make an attempt to clean himself up before his shift. Two tiny arms grabbed around his legs and a small face shoved into his right thigh.

"Hi Uncle Shane!"

If there was one aspect about his life that he didn't absolutely abhor, it was Jasmine. She was the light at the end of a dark, beer induced spinning tunnel. Two big bright eyes emerged from a fluffy mass of dark hair.

"Hi, you." He mumbled, smoothing her hair down with a tired hand. He pried her off of his leg and knelt down to give his god-daughter a kiss on her forehead.