The Runaway: A Stardew Valley Story

Family Crest

Sebastian's wet hair covers his eyes, and he's using one free hand to push it away while the other drags me on. I am stumbling as we go. My sneakers don't find footholds in the slick grass. Twice Sebastian has to haul my ass off the ground. It's raining so hard now, that the world is white. The sound of raindrops is like a thousand footsteps closing in tightly all around us. Thunder rolls, and lightning splits the sky.

The grip on my arm doesn't release until we're on the curb in front of the motorcycle. My muscles don't want to respond fast enough, and Sebastian has to buckle my helmet into place. He yells over the roar of water as he does.

"We can't make it back to Pelican in this rain! We need to get a hotel room and dry clothes!" His dark eyes rove across my face looking for something, but I don't know what. "Will you be okay?"

I can only blink.

Sebastian's chest heaves as we stand there in the rain. "Junox, speak to me, Yabba dammit!" He shakes my shoulders.

"Y-yeah, yes," I lie.

We both know, but it's enough to make Sebastian pull on his own helmet. The motorcycle's seat is harder to keep balanced on with the slick of rain. I have to wrap my arms around Sebastian tighter than I did before, but they feel numb. The strength in my body is depleted.

The wheels of the motorcycle are almost skating on a river of rain as the parking lot fills with water. The road is slightly better drained, but a car passing us is still able to sling filthy water onto our side when it hits a divot in the cement. Sebastian growls in annoyance, but my eyes lock onto the metallic circle on the hood.

The Jones family crest.

Now, my fingers bury themselves into the soaked fabric of Sebastian's hoodie. The black car turns into the covered driveway of the cemetery, and my heart stops because they're looking for me. If the rain hadn't come and Sebastian hadn't pulled me away, they would have found me.

"Faster!" I cry, but even I can't hear myself over the roar of rain and the sound of the engine.

My breath is coming out in little heaves of panic. I'm sure I've done some sort of damage to Sebastian's hoodie where my nails have dug in for dear life. A caution light turns red and Sebastian turns his head to check on me. His eyes follow the fear in my gaze to where a man in black from head to toe emerges from the driver's seat.

Sebastian floors the accelerator even though the light remains red.

Tree-lined streets pass in a blur. I shiver as wind claws for purchase of my soaked shirt, and goosebumps stipple my arms and chest. Sebastian drives and doesn't stop. Even when the rain pounds harder, he keeps the bike moving. Tight suburban drives give way to open country roads surrounded by fields and pastures.

It's not until we pass a sign saying "Now Entering Zuzu Metro Area" that I tug on Sebastian's sleeve.

"Trust me," he roars over the sound of the road and rain.

Fifteen minutes later, Sebastian pulls into the parking lot of a Best Bed hotel. A neon sign boasts of free WiFi and cable TV; though, only every third or fourth letter is actually lit up. As he's disembarking, Sebastian pulls off his hoodie with a wet suction sound following. The black shirt underneath is soaked, and I can see that he has goosebumps too.

"I know it's wet, but do you think you can put this on?"

With Sebastian's help, I manage to pull on the sopping garment. We tuck my hair back into the cap and hide my face behind the dark hood. The absurdity of my state crosses my mind, and without bringing humor, the thought leaves.

"Okay, keep your head down," Sebastian says. "Hide behind me if you have to, and, um, maybe act like we're together or something. It'll make it less suspicious."

When I look to confirm I heard him right, there's a faint pink line across Sebastian's cheeks and nose. He's also doing that thing where he won't meet my gaze. It's a sign of anxiety, Sam told me.

"Okay," I say, and extend my hand.

Sebastian's eyes go wide as though I've surprised him. "Wha... huh?"

"Couples hold hands in public, right?"

Blinking, Sebastian swallows. "Uh, yeah. Sure."

His hand is warm and clammy from the dampness in his clothes. I keep my head down as instructed. The lobby floors are yellowed from time, and my sneakers squeak with each step. The counter that Sebastian stops at is plywood and peeling blue plastic.

A receptionist with a strange accent welcomes us in a tone sounding none too welcoming, "How can I help you?"

"Do you have any doubles left for tonight?" Sebastian asks.

"Smoking or non-smoking?"

"Smok--" I squeeze Sebastian's hand, and he sighs. "I mean non-smoking."

A keyboard clacks away. Then a mouse clicks. Then the keyboard again.

"Name?"

"Unlisted."

The woman snorts. "Ya know that doesn't protect minors when their parents come looking, right?"

Sebastian drops my hand to fish his wallet from his back pocket. He pulls a beat-up credit card from it. It hits the counter with a slap.

"Would it help if I paid by the hour?"

Another ugly snort comes from the receptionist before she begins entering something into the computer again. There's a longer stretch of awkward silence now. I grab Sebastian's hand once more with nothing else to do. The last thing I want is to draw attention to myself, and I try to tell myself that playing the part of a girlfriend will help. At least, I've had a lot of practice with that.

Sebastian stiffens at my touch but says nothing. The muscles of his back are still taught when the receptionist hands him something I assume to be our key for the night. She explains that breakfast won't be available due to remodeling, and check out is at ten. The hair on my neck tells me she watches the whole way out of the lobby.

The dread in my chest doesn't fade until we're in the room and the door is closed. The carpet is burnt pink, and the air is musty. I can tell by just looking at the beds, they're stiff as boards. It makes me ache for Grandpa's cottage.

Grandpa...

"Hey, Junox," Sebastian breaks the silence gently, "I'm going across the street to buy something dry to wear. What size do you wear?"

I shrug.

"Medium it is then." Sebastian sighs. "What about food? What do you eat?"

I shake my head.

"Hey," Sebastian steps closer, "look at me." When I still don't meet his eyes, he bends down to my height. "Deadbolt the door when I leave. Look through the peephole to be sure it's me when I get back. Take a shower while I'm gone, and you have to eat something. Got it?"

I start to argue, but Sebastian just gives me a small and somehow sad smile.

"No buts," he says.

I do as Sebastian says, locking the door and stripping out of my wet clothes. I stand naked in the bathroom waiting for the water to turn warm. When it does, I just stand there in the spray letting the scalding water pound my shoulders and back. My mind replays images of a rectangle in the ground and the glint of metal on a black car. Over and over those two things play on repeat. I don't know whether to cry or scream, so instead, I just stand there. And stand there.