Dinner at the carpenter’s shop had always been a test of patience for Sebastian. Maru excitedly explaining her latest project, and Demetrius nodding along like she’d just invented sliced bread—it all grated against him. He sat hunched at his end of the table, pushing potatoes around his plate while Robin tried to keep the conversation light. Sometimes she glanced at him in quiet concern, but Sebastian wasn’t in the mood to give her that reassurance.

It wasn’t that he hated his family. He just felt like a guest in his own house—an afterthought who lived in the basement. Maru always seemed to shine under the spotlight, her ideas praised, her future mapped out. Meanwhile, Demetrius rarely missed a chance to throw in a “constructive” remark about Sebastian’s freelancing, like it wasn’t real work. The comments weren’t sharp enough to be called insults, but they landed heavy all the same. Tonight, one too many had piled up.

So when the tension in his jaw threatened to turn into words he’d regret, Sebastian stood without much ceremony, muttered something about "needing air", and slipped out the door before anyone could stop him.

The mountain road greeted him with its familiar chill, the kind that cut through his hoodie but somehow felt better than the heat of the dinner table. The sun had sunk behind the ridge, leaving streaks of orange fading into purple, and the first stars winked faintly through the darkening sky. Sebastian walked with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his boots crunching against gravel, until the quiet shimmer of the lake opened before him.

Here, at least, the world wasn’t loud. The surface rippled softly with the evening breeze, reflecting slivers of moonlight. He sat on the old wooden guardrail near the dock, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it with practiced ease. The first drag filled his lungs, warm and grounding. Smoke curled upward, dissolving into the night air.

He liked it here—the lake at dusk. It gave him space to breathe, to be invisible for a while. Nobody asking questions, nobody comparing him to Maru, nobody reminding him that his room was technically a basement. Just him, the faint smell of pine trees, and the creak of the dock shifting with the water. Sebastian exhaled another stream of smoke and leaned back, his gaze tracing the reflection of the stars. He thought about his bike, maybe taking it for a ride tomorrow. Thought about his unfinished project sitting on his computer. Anything was better than replaying the sound of Demetrius’ voice in his head.

That was when footsteps broke the quiet. Light at first, then crunching against the dirt path. Sebastian’s brow furrowed. Not many people came by the lake this late—just him, maybe Abigail sometimes, or that odd man, Linus. He turned his head slightly, cigarette dangling between his fingers, and caught sight of someone walking past, dusted in the faint glow of the lanterns lining the road.

The new farmer.

He’d seen them around town, usually busy hauling supplies or trudging through the overgrowth near their rundown farm. People talked about them a lot lately—how strange it was for someone to leave the city and start a life here of all places. Sebastian hadn’t really thought about it much, though now, watching them cut across the path from the mines with dirt smudged on their clothes, he couldn’t help but wonder.

They noticed him too. Their eyes flicked toward the glowing end of his cigarette, the pale outline of him against the trees. A quiet pause stretched between them, broken when Sebastian lifted his head, smoke slipping from his lips.

“Oh,” he said, his tone flat, not unfriendly but not exactly warm either. “You just moved in, right?”

Sebastian studied them a second longer. “Out of all places you could live,” he muttered, flicking ash off to the side, “you chose Pelican Town?”