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Despite your home being described by all as a "tropical island paradise", there's only so much you can do day in and day out.
Harvest fruit. Redecorate your home. Buy out the whole of the Able Sisters' shop. Pay your home loan (and promptly accept a new one, because according to Tom, "storage doesn't come cheap, no no!", and you were nothing if not a completionist.) Rinse and repeat, maybe talk to your neighbors if you were feeling ambitious. But everything gets dull if you do it every day, even living in paradise.
So, you took a vacation from your vacation.
You packed up some things and went to visit your old town, the one you used to (involuntarily, at first) be mayor of. You really only meant to visit for a week or two, but... your old neighbors 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 seemed to miss you, you missed the old shops (you really missed that old club), and upon giving Isabelle a call, she tells you things have been quiet at the island, and not to worry, she's got things taken care of, just like old times. When you find out your old home has still been empty and lonely since you moved, you decide to stay for a while.
---
You don't realize how long your "little while" is until you finally get back, and much has changed.
Boat tours with an old friend you hadn't seen since you were a mayor, new clothes, new stock in Nook's Cranny, new items to be redeemed at the kiosk. Blathers tells you with his usual gusto (after telling you how very pleased he is to see you again) that upstairs, just to the left, they even have a new café, The Roost!
What really catches your interest, though, is a call you get from Harvey just a day after you get back. He won't tell you what it is over the phone, but he says there's something exciting he's been working on for a month now, over on his island.
You think to yourself that it's early enough in the day, you can absolutely sneak in a visit for Harvey. So you do.
---
There are now a variety of shops and services on Harv's island, in a back area that, quite frankly, you had no idea existed. It's amazing, really. Reese and Cyrus have set up their little customization shop, Katrina's fortune telling booth is up and running. Of all people, the mayor of your hometown, Tortimer, even has a service set up! (Small world, no?)
The 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 person you're expecting to see here is Redd, and you stop in your fucking tracks the second you lay eyes on him.
You nearly trip over your own feet as you process that, yes, that is in fact Redd, and 𝘺𝘦𝘴, he is selling art here now. You're too far away to tell whether the paintings are real. There's a trailer behind him. He probably paints his fakes in there. Is that a raffle box? You're suddenly close enough to make out the details on the paintings (yep. Both are fake. The eyebrows on what's meant to be a Scary Painting are all wrong) and before you have the sense to stop yourself-
"Are you colorblind?"
Redd's head whips around to the sound of your voice so fast you almost have the decency to feel bad. The genuine surprise in his eyes isn't dimmed in the slightest by his breathless "Fuckin 𝘩𝘶𝘩??"
You try to hide the sheepish grin threatening to break across your face. (You really don't do a very good job.) "Well, just... That's supposed to be 'Rooster and Hen with Hydrangeas', isn't it? The hydrangeas. They're supposed to be blue. You, ah, painted them purple."
He blinks, dumbfounded, mouth agape as you walk up to inspect the raffle box. "Where the 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 have you been?" He sounds a little hurt, a lot relieved.
You run your hand along the box, pointedly avoiding looking up at him. "I visited my old town. I told you I used to be mayor, I think? I, um. Stayed longer than I meant to, I didn't even... realize. Or-"
"You could've 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯" Redd cuts himself off, voice threatening to crack. He composes himself, and out of the corner of your eye you see him look around to ensure none of the other vendors noticed. "-Or given me a heads up. I thought you got fuckin hurt, or maybe moved off'a that island, y'know, maybe did everything there was to do, or-- fuck. What the fuck?"
He slips a hand under your chin, carefully grabbing you by the jaw, and making you look at him finally. His eyes are wide, like he can barely believe he's seeing you right in front of him again. You watch his eyebrows furrow and his mouth purse as he makes a disgruntled noise, gently shaking your face in frustration.
"Missed me?" you ask, heart oddly full at how frazzled he's gotten over you. (You didn't even fully expect him to notice, if you were being honest with yourself. You realize he might actually kick your ass if you voice that thought, so you choose to keep it to yourself.)
The most wholeheartedly 𝘶𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘵 sigh you've ever heard rips itself from Redd's chest, and he releases your jaw in favor of wrapping both arms around you tightly. "Shut 𝘶𝘱." He squeezes you tightly, like he's convinced you'll disappear into thin air again if he doesn't hold you together.
"You're crushing me," you wheeze into his chest, even though your own arms wrap around his waist tightly.
"You deserve it, you little shit." When he finally releases you, you stumble back a couple steps, trying to pull some air back into your lungs. He carefully fixes his uniform from where the violent hug sent it askew. "Well. So then. Care to participate in my humble raffle I have goin' on here? It's only 500 bells a ticket, and each ticket nets a prize! Yep, every ticket is a winner. Whaddaya say?"
You squint as Redd slips into his Sleazy Salesman Voice™, and glance at the box. "What's in it?"
He shrugs, the polite expression melting off of his face and making way for a sly grin again. "Fuck around an' find out."
Sighing, you reach into your pocket, yanking out 500 bells (no more, no less.) and pressing it into his outstretched paw. "Just once."
Very quietly, too quiet for anyone else to hear, he mutters "hey, you said that when you struck a 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 for some legitimate art with me, and here you are." He sidesteps the swing you take at him with no trouble, stepping closer to the raffle box with a smug toothy smile. "Now, if you please, reach your hand into the box and pull yourself a ticket!"
---
15,000 bells. You spend 15,000 bells at Redd's raffle, and end up with more canned coffee and folding fans and donuts than you know what to do with. By the time you run out of space in your bag, it's getting dark out, and the other vendors are closing up for the evening.
Grumbling and shoving your 3rd pink folding fan into a random pocket of your bag, you finally notice the sky changing. "Shit."
He looks up from the bells (your fucking bells god damn it-) he's meticulously counting and shoving into a bag. "Huh?"
"It's late."
"And?"
"I have to get back to the island. 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘵, it's like 8pm already!"
"That doesn't matter, it-" Redd cuts himself off and seems to have a realization before he carefully masks his expression. "Oh, no. That's right, cousin." (Your hissed "don't call me that" does not deter him.) "You aren't over here on Harv's island very often, so you wouldn't know..."
"Wouldn't know what?" Worry creeps into your voice.
He looks at you pitifully. "The plane here doesn't run real late. In fact, I think the last flight back woulda been..." He checks his NookPhone, barely glancing at the time. "an hour ago, oof."
Your face drops in dismay. "But... but that doesn't make sense, there isn't anywhere to 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺, maybe if I go ask Wilbur-"
"Now now, don't worry, I ain't gonna let anything happen to you. I'm sure you been wondering about my trailer anyway, am I right? You keep glancin' at it."
You squint suspiciously. "Is there even room for a bed in that thing?"
He shrugs. (Had you not been trying to quell the panic he'd stoked earlier, you would've noticed him fighting back a smirk.) "It's not real big, since it's just me in there, but it's cozy."
You sigh in resignation. You briefly wonder if, maybe, Wilbur might still be docked here, if you'd just go back through that archway to check. But then Redd is unlocking the trailer, picking up his forged paintings, and bringing them inside. At the last moment, you think to yourself, "Am I really this stupid?" And then you remember the Mona Lisa's eyebrows, Blathers' face, and you quietly trudge up the stairs to meet your fate.
---
It's... shockingly nicer than you're expecting.
Sitting on the little bed that smells strongly of Redd, you look around. The little built in table and chairs have canvases strewn about (some blank, some not), and there's tubes and bottles of paint in all different colors and brands littering the surfaces. You were expecting more empty ramen packages and trash, maybe blood splattered on the wall to add a little bit of character. Instead, you're reminded that Redd 𝘪𝘴 an artist, even if he uses his talent for scamming poor unsuspecting customers.
Redd finishes carefully setting today's forgeries near the door before closing it tightly, and your heart rate spikes on reflex hearing the lock click into place. If he notices, he mercifully doesn't point it out.
You watch him reach around to untie his apron, pulling it over his head and then lazily padding over to some hooks he has on the wall of the trailer interior. He glances over at you as he hangs it up, seeing the apprehension on your face. "...It's the end of the day, cousin, I don't wear that apron to sleep."
"Just... no funny business, alright?"
"Easy, easy. I wanted to make sure you were gonna be safe tonight, that's all. I can sleep on the fuckin' floor if it'll make ya feel better."
You look down sheepishly. "Well, I mean. That's not..."
Something equal parts mean and delighted glints in Redd's eyes. "Oh, don't worry about it, you can take the bed 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵. I wouldn't want you feelin' uncomfortable."
Under your breath, you mutter "You live for making me uncomfortable."
A mean grin spreads across his face before he can catch it, but he doesn't reply. He takes a few steps to reach a little hidden closet, pulling out an extra couple blankets for himself. Spreading out one on the floor, he motions behind you. "Toss me one of the pillows, there's two."
You twist around to grab one, handing it to Redd. "You go to bed early?"
"Nah. Just gettin' it ready for later. I gotta work on some paintings."
You're quiet for a few moments while he finishes getting his makeshift bed on the floor next to you. "Can I watch?"
"Shouldn't you be goin' to sleep at a reasonable time, miss? You got a bedtime?"
"I'm the island rep, I can go to bed whenever I want."
"Ooh, she's a big girl, excuse me." He grins slyly as your face warms. "Sure, you can watch me."
---
You end up watching from his bed, laying on your stomach with your arm propping your head up. He gets his little setup together, and you don't comment on it, but he moves the big lamp closer to you, to make it easier for you to see what he's doing. You wonder if he's shifted the whole thing around just for you, and you erase the thought from your mind before you can dwell on it too much. God forbid you get soft.
You watch, enraptured, as he paints a shockingly accurate replica of 'Starry Night'. You'd always wondered how exactly he mimics the originals so closely, and it's something of a treat to watch him work. No wonder he's so successful. Redd's focus doesn't waver, and you're almost mesmerized by the way he mixes paints and how confidently he dances his brushes across the canvas. It's easy to forget that he really went to art school until you see that kind of skill in action.
After a few hours in the comfortable silence, you drift into a peaceful slumber.
(Redd notices the shift in your breathing. He waits until you're well and truly asleep, and then he 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 so gently moves you to the other end of the bed, pulling his blanket around you protectively to keep out the chill of the evening air.)