Chapter Text
A single envelope was her drug.
Her grandpa left it to her, sealed and shiny. The parchment promised her a whole new world away from this office. Spoke of real connections with people and nature, two things that honestly kind of scared Polina more than anything. They were unwieldy things, not governed by the simple rules set down by working.
The rules were as follows:
Drag your carcass to work, clock in, put up with the pain and suffering, clock out.
Repeat. REPEAT. REPEAT.
And try to forget it all on the weekend, drown yourself in the digital lake of your couch and tv until you are forced back to the grind. Clicked back in place like a little bulb on a big machine that barely has a use for you but will take your spark anyway, your light. Another bulb will take your place once you’ve burned out.
So she turned to her drug, her companion. The mighty envelope.
She kept the letter in her desk, staring at it at all hours of the day. Polina pulled it out near constantly till the paper was almost worn at the edges. With practiced hands, each time she folded it up and tucked it away when someone came rearing their ugly head with tiny beady eyes running their mouth at her.
Still, her drug was sitting in the drawer. Waiting for her eyes, for her sweaty hands covered in paper cuts to open it up again. And she would, again and again. Surely, this was the healthiest vice she ever had in her life.
Polina often thought, who was she kidding? A change like this sounded like a big fat joke. Perhaps it was a scam to lure her away into the clutches of some unsavory characters? A cult trying out new recruit tactics? Some kind of internet prank or TikTok challenge…
But each day, she still took the letter out. Even for a quick peak just to read a word of her grandfather’s soft cursive.
It felt like safety, lost in his gentle words. Reminded her of a time before everything was so difficult. Back when she had no taxes to file, no bills to pay, no stress to pile and pile. It was back when she’d be dropped off at her grandfather’s home and simply be allowed to exist with him without a demand or a purpose.
It was simply him and her, eating salmon in silence, playing checkers for hours, conversing low in the night about so many topics. Anything she wanted to say, he’d nod and say his piece on it as well.
Grandpa was gone.
He’d been buried for months but she almost heard his voice in the ink. His closeness never strayed into her personal bubble and only offered his hand in suggestion. Never forcing her to take it and never making a big deal out of it when she did. Simply moving along, giving her fishing tips and pulling up strawberries from his garden for her to eat.
Her job was her life.
Here, in this tiny cubicle feeling like eyes and cameras alike were scrutinizing every single blink she made, Polina sat and worked. Again and again, stifled by towers of papers. Just when she thought she was done, another asshole would leave a fresh stack for her. Not to mention, her inbox was flooded with emails and other work related inquiries.
She’d bite her lip and work through the pain, her eyes often straining at her screen. Polina felt physically sick with her eyes practically glued into place and her back hunched for hours upon hours.
This was all she’s ever known since college ended. Her first “real” job, one where the paycheck could afford rent and a few boxes of pasta and sauce if she stretched it. She wasn’t sure who she was doing it for anymore, herself or…
“Polina! Where’s my damn coffee?” Called her manager, George, who thought she should do the coffee run even though she was working on twenty projects.
Daniela, his asskisser lackey, joined in, “I don’t get how she’s still working here! She’s so slow!” “I’ll have to start timing her!” George chuckled, looking down at his Rolex with a grin. “Yeah you should!” The woman bobbed her head like a complicit child, “Plus, she’s in violation of dress code. She thinks she’s sooooo hot in those ugly baggy suits.”
Both workers broke out into laughter.
Suffice to say, Polina quit the next day with a hastily scribbled sticky note done in a half dying red pen taped to her computer. Thankfully, she had nothing of worth on or in her desk so she walked out the front doors feeling freer than she had in years.
Stardew Valley was quite a ways away from the city. She had to hop on two buses to get there but eventually she arrived at the old house her grandfather had left her. Weeds grew everywhere on the plot of land, along with boulders and random trees that sprouted out around the property.
It wasn’t looking much better when she walked up to the porch. The step broke under her weight, making her flail for a bit till she hopped up to the front door. When she pulled out the key, the door stuck and she had to slam her shoulder into it. It barely creaked open, sounding more like a dying cat.
Finally inside, she looked into the cabin with sunlight streaming through the windows. A tv sat in the corner, a red carpet in the center near a bed that definitely needed replacing. Cobwebs littered the corners, making it look way older than it was.
Did her grandpa actually used to live here? This place looked like no one had set foot in it in decades. Maybe she had gone to the wrong house? No no, she checked the address. This had to be right.
Feeling overwhelmed by the amount of work the place was presenting itself to be so far, she walked back outside.
Her eyes caught on a wooden box to the right of her property. Maybe she could find some tools in there? Perhaps an ax for the fireplace.
Polina opened the lid, looking down into the dark box. Was there anything in here? A twinkle at the bottom sparked her interest, prompting her to lean down into it. Almost almost, she was about to lock her fingers around it—
The lid’s metal support wobbled and groaned, snapping down and smashing her head. She struggled under the weight, feeling frantic and stupid. Why did she think anything on this farm could be trusted?
“Woah, hold on!” An unknown, sweet voice called out.
Suddenly, the lid was pulled open and Polina slumped down to the grass. She rubbed her head, messing up her already messy black hair.
“You okay there, new stuff?” A long shadow fell over her.
“O-oh of course I—” Polina froze as she looked up at the voice’s owner.
She was tall, tan, with red fluffy curls tied up in a ponytail. The woman had curves for days, dressed in blue plaid with gray overalls and big brown boots. There were patches all over the overalls, lovingly sewn on. Her right eye was covered by an eyepatch. She was beyond gorgeous, it couldn’t even come close to describing her.
The woman was frowning, “How’s your head? Should I call someone over to take a look at it?”
Feeling like a spaz, Polina quickly rose from the dirt, “N-no need! I uh… was just looking for some tools and—”
“Uh sorry hun, you won’t find any tools in there. That’s your deposit box.”
Polina scratched her head, “My what? For like… money?”
Farmers certainly had an odd way of storing their funds. Maybe she was going about it all wrong hiding her extra money under her mattress. Boxes in plain sight were surely the way to go.
The redhead laughed, “No actually, it’s more complex than that. You can put any materials or produce you wanna sell in there. We collect them and send you the money the next day.”
She hadn’t heard of that before, “Ohhh, that makes sense I guess?”
“Yup! Oh, where are my manners? The name’s Agatha. Nice to meet ya!” The woman held out her hand, a sweet smile on her face.
The shorter woman shrunk back at the gesture, “I’m P-Polina…” She didn’t accept the hand but offered what she hoped was something like a smile.
“So, you’re Gooseton’s granddaughter?” Thankfully, she didn’t look that offended at her refusal of the handshake. That was good, right? Tons of people didn’t shake hands. Shaking hands wasn’t a huge deal.
“Uh yeah… that’s me haha…” Polina was sweating bullets, hands buried in her jeans’ pockets.
“How do you like the town so far? Has anyone given you a tour yet?” Agatha put a hand on her hip, leaning toward her.
She shook her head. Why was this woman still talking to her? Was Polina giving her the impression that she wanted to talk? Should she be talking right now?
“You know, I have some free time. Want me to show you around?” Agatha pointed a thumb behind her at the pathway presumably leading into town.
A walk around town. What was she supposed to do with that? Make small talk while Agatha showed her around? Smile and wave at the neighbors? Would they want to talk too? What was even considered small talk? Should she talk about the weather? It was hot and bright, that was for sure. That was dumb.
“Polina? Hey, are you alright?”
She was the definition of not alright. What was she even doing right now? How damn old was she? Couldn’t she string a sentence together? Polina felt hot under the collar, looking at Agatha’s overalls instead of at her face. The clothing was fading in certain places, clearly worn from years of work.
“Oh gosh, you feeling alright? You’re looking mighty red in the face.” Agatha should really make sure the deposit boxes around town didn’t have this problem with their lids. She didn’t want any more potential head injuries.
Polina wondered what her coworkers were doing right now. Maybe ordering lunch from that Chinese place across the street? She loved their orange chicken, it was her favorite.
Beyond concerned, Agatha tried again, “Polina?” She reached for the poor thing’s shoulder.
Polina immediately zeroed in on her intentions and backed up, knocking into the box and scrambling to stay standing. Her hair was curling oddly in the heat and she felt like the personification of a sweat stain.
“Woah there, sorry I didn’t mean to frighten you I just—”
Polina looked away shaking, “I uh… I’m actually just visiting? B-bye!” She fled from the woman, back up the broken steps and into the cabin. The shitty door slamming after her.
She slipped down the wall, heart thudding in her throat. Polina tugged at her dark locks, threatening to rip the greasy strands out. Why had she done that? Lied like that? Had she completely lost her damn mind? She must’ve looked like a lunatic to Agatha. Was it too late to beg her boss for mercy and go back to her crummy job?
Footsteps sounded out on the porch, why did literally all of the floorboards sound like they were rotting? She could feel the structural integrity nightmare headache coming on.
“Hey um… Polina?”
Yet again, she froze. Polina made no sound, staring at the door and the hazy shadow she could see from under it. Why was Agatha at her door? Why why why?
“I’m real sorry if I was being too pushy there. My farm is to the south of your place if you wanna visit. Again I’m uh sorry, I’ll see you around.” Agatha’s surprisingly light footsteps faded away.
As the tension trickled out from her body, Polina shakily got up to crack open her door. True to her word, Agatha was leaving with her red curls swinging to and fro.
It was a shame she couldn’t manage to keep up a conversation. Agatha seemed nice if not a tad overfamiliar with strangers.
She swore heavily when a spider crawled over her shoe. Polina scrambled away, bumping right into the ancient bed which immediately buckled, now only a three legged bed.
Fuck this stupid cabin.