Muddy Relations (Stardew Valley Fanfiction)

He's Got It All

    The glow of the Stardrop Saloon surrounded every stretch and surface. It was the place where everything happened, a plaza for the community. It was a place of comfort. I had known that since my grandfather's death. It just made sense.

    I remember my very first time being let into the rustic sanctuary. It was only after his death that I was old enough to drink.

    I had walked in, the fireflies buzzing brightly outside in the tepid night. I hadn't taken the time to absorb my surroundings, but the atmosphere of the place was carefully curated. There had been no need to observe it in order to get comfortable.

The bar hadn't been my only destination that night, although it was the only destination I looked forward to. A taller and thicker man stood behind the counter, his mustache beautifully groomed and formed into a symmetrical swirl on each side. His joyful face left a scorch in my desolate memory.

    Even though I was old enough to drink, I didn't. I still had to drive home that night. I ordered a coffee instead. Grandpa had told me what excellent coffee Gus made. I had to see for myself.

    A single call had taken me away from the hustle and bustle of ZuZu City, and to my surprise I felt excited to go back to the valley I had known and loved. It was a bitter surprise to get that call, especially when I finally realized what I would be coming back to do. My family would be waiting back at my grandfather's cabin, some staying the night in the house, and some in the disheveled greenhouse that he kept. I, however, was only expected to drop by. To 'talk', my mother had said. My work in the city wouldn't have allowed me to stay the night anyway.

    A different, older man sat down beside me. This man, I knew. He smiled warmly at me.

    "How are you, my dear?" the man said, his bushy eyebrows crowding together in the middle of his face. I knew him because of my grandpa. He was Lewis.

    I only nodded in response, expecting my face to do some of the talking for me that day. Lewis sighed, knowingly. He allowed my silence.

    "How's the old man, then?" He asked sweetly. The question made my head throb. I turned back to my coffee, and stirred it. Back and forth, back and forth. "Ah,"

    He tipped the beer stein he held, and said something about the great Yoba. I remembered a tear dropping down my cheek.

    The clatter at the back of the saloon forced me out of my thoughts and back into the warm lights. My face felt fuzzy from the drinks I had already consumed, and I had spent the afternoon listening to Pam's gloating. It was about her new and improved house, as well. She seemed to glow when thinking about it, and took considerably fewer drinks. I, however, didn't spare the occasion and ordered a couple of Gus's house brew.

Not only was his coffee the best, but so was his beer. I had tried desperately to get the recipe, but Gus kept his lips shut tight when he wanted to. While tonight was about Clint, it was just as much about tasting every note of flavor in Gus's special mixture.

    Looking towards the door of the saloon, I caught sight of Clint. He looked cleaner and surprisingly presentable. He had changed out of his work clothes and into a dark sapphire turtleneck that fit his chest snugly. His hair was shiny and smooth, and had a gold luster that I had never noticed before. His hair had always seemed like a badly bleached ensemble, a dark brown contrasted against orange, but cleaned up from the smoke and coal– he was revealed to be a natural blonde.

    I smiled at him, reasoning in my own head why he had never spent the time to focus on his own appearance before.

    Glancing at me, Clint blushed and frowned, looking more embarrassed than the time Emily had forced him to wear something new. He was excruciatingly predictable.