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Shane did not like people.
Shane especially did not like new people.
Stardew Valley was tiny. The town had thirty some odd people, and nobody new had moved in since he'd come to live with his great-aunt Marnie a year ago.
Or nobody had, until the farmer. At first he's even pricklier than usual - which is saying something - as he anticipates another cheery, bright eyed bastard trying to worm their way into his life. As the weeks wore on without any sign of the new face, however, he relaxed. Listened to the local gossip. Learned that Yarn looked like the lovechild of a vampire and a ghost, that they'd claimed to have lost their voice when they first arrived but two months later still sound like their words have to travel through a wood chipper to leave their mouth. That only Lewis, Pierre, Robin, and Marnie have gotten more than nods and waves out of them, and Willy had woken up once to see them standing on the pier at three in the morning and thought they were a siren. Abigail had waxed poetic about how strong they were, and how cool their scars were, and how good their butt looked in tight denim. Sebastian had teased her about having a crush, Abigail had denied it, and they'd spent the next twenty minutes bickering before Sam lost their pool game and went to get pizza.
Look, there wasn't much to do in the saloon, and nobody could shut the hell up. It wasn't his fault he overheard their conversations.
All in all it worked out. He got to listen in on conversations that weren't centered around years old gossip and got to avoid meeting a new person. Best of both worlds, as it were.
Until he walked back from the saloon's bathroom to see a figure slumped over at his table, head on their arms.
"That's my table," Shane barked.
Unsettling blue eyes stared him down as the woman lifted her head. She'd probably be attractive if her hair wasn't ratty and tangled, clothes dirty and baggy. Not that he could really talk. His jacket was on its last legs, and he didn't plan to get a new one until it literally fell off of him.
She didn't respond, staring through him like she couldn't focus her eyes. He snapped his fingers in her face, and got the same lack of response.
"For fuck's sake, are you high or some shit?" he asked.
Her eyes slid slowly past him. Just as he was about to shout, he heard Gus speak.
"Yarn, here's your food. Enjoy!"
The woman took the plate with a nod of thanks, then swayed to her feet and began to make her way past Shane.
"What the hell is wrong with that woman?" he muttered to himself, just loud enough that he was sure she could hear.
It got her attention, but not the way he was hoping. She finally snapped out of her daze, eyes focusing on him, and he really wished she hadn't, because while her eyes were off-putting before they're not far from legitimately frightening when she was focused. She stared long enough to make it really weird before she's gone just as suddenly as she'd came.
Shane went home early that night for no particular reason.
The next night he was thoroughly enjoying getting drunk and being miserable by himself, thank you very much, when she entered the saloon again. Her eyes went to him immediately, resting there just long enough to make him angry before she's ignoring him in favor of ordering from Gus.
It had already been a long week. Morris wouldnt stop nagging about Shane showing up late, Sam had no called no showed so Shane had been forced to cover his shift, and one of the batty assholes that lived outside of town had come in and wanted to know where they kept the stuff that was entirely produced within the valley. It had taken hours to get rid of him. So he wasn't in the mood for trouble. He was going to ignore the farmer. Really, he was, because she honestly kind of creeped him out and he prefered being left the hell alone. Unfortunately, she had other plans, setting a pizza and two mugs of beer down on his table.
He glared up at her. "I don't know you, leave me alone."
She took a seat anyway, pushing one of the mugs his direction. It didn't lessen his crap mood any, but free beer was free beer. He made sure to steal an unoffered slice of pizza as well.
No reaction. He ate the rest of her meal, and still nothing, even when he belched loud enough that Lewis sent him a look from across the room. He took that as a challenge, raking his eyes over her frame and spitting out the first thing that came to mind.
"You should brush that fucking rat's nest."
She just nodded.
"I hope you know I'd rather be drowning than talking to you."
A shrug.
"Get out of my face, would you?"
That got him nothing at all, and he was actually getting pissed, so he slammed back the rest of his drink, grabbed her almost untouched mug, and flung the beer in her face. Not even a flinch. Her hand came up to wipe at her eyes, but otherwise she didn't even seem to notice the beer dripping from her hair.
He snarled and ignored the rising shouts as people noticed what he'd done. "Don't fucking bother me."
Whatever she said - or didn't say, because she was either mute or some kind of Yoba damned zombie, apparently - he didn't catch, because he turned and walked out the door. She'd ruined his night, and the pulse in his ears said she'd given him a headache to boot.
He was expecting Gus to flag him down and give him a lecture about his behavior last night when he walked in the next day. He actually kind of thought he deserved it now that he was sober. Instead he got a short, irritated nod as he slouched off to his table.
Three hours later, a pizza and two beers slid onto the table as Yarn slid into the opposite booth.
"What the fuck," he deadpanned.
She stared back, soulless as before. At least she'd washed her hair, even if it was still a tangled mess.
He had absolutely no idea what was going on. It was ridiculous, coming back to spend time with the man who'd thrown beer in her face yesterday. She definitely didn't look like she was waiting on an apology. She wasn't even looking at him, just staring at the rest of the saloon blankly. Was she getting off on this shit? Pissing him off and watching him pulling increasingly desperate dick moves to get her to back off?
It was all he could think of, so he spent the rest of his night ignoring her. Ate her food, drank his beer and then hers when she pushed the untouched mug his way, told Gus to stick the rest of his drinks on her tab just to see if it'd get a response.
It didn't.
Those corpse eyes watched him as he stumbled out the door that night, not a single word exchanged between the two of them. The next couple weeks would see that pattern of insults, silence, and anger repeat, right up until that incident.