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Pokyo city was great; the busy streets with new faces every single morning, the late night take-always over neon night lights, the packed coffee shops with weekly signature sweet treats. There was something so enticing about being lost in a sea of dreams and lifetimes, every single step you take filled with overflowing possibilities of who you could be and who you want to be.
Pokyo city was great – until it wasn’t. The endless crowds seemed to come closer and closer with each commute, the constant chatter buzzing like a fly against the window, the ever-changing facade of the streets taking away any familiarity you attempt to find. The city noise once weighed comfortably across your shoulders like a brand new coat, the one you told yourself you had to wear; now your back aches and all you look for is a comfortable place to rest your weary feet.
And after one particularly emotional night hunched over your studio kitchen counter, every single negative emotion rotting like the week-old spinach bag you swore you would finish this time; all of it was left at the bottom shelf of the fridge, every single good thing left untouched carefully placed in the only suitcase that was buried under the bed frame with the thought it would be saved for later.
Now is that later.
This was all that was running through Dawn’s head as she scoured the small room for any remnants of goodness left, anything untouched by the soot from outside. She always took her shoes off at the door, never let the outside clothes touch the inside – outside was ugly and corrupt, jagged and hot like magma. But inside was soft with curves instead of straight lines, it was warm like a hug. And it had to be protected. But as she dug and dug, it seemed as much as she tried to keep outside from coming inside, she had succeeded in keeping the good away as well.
There was barely anything that was worth packing. But anything she could find – pictures, greeting cards, magnets – all of it was stuffed with shaking hands and prepared for the journey ahead.
Maybe it’s time she took up her grandparent’s offer on that old farm of theirs.
From what Dawn could remember, it wasn’t always as run down as her grandmother describes it on the phone (the sound of the airport shuttle trying it’s best to interrupt the conversation) – her relatives swear he’d been there as a child. Back when they still had strength in their bones and their knees didn’t pop like a cherry coke as her grandma likes to say, when the soil was soft and grew the best carrots, the cows grazed happily and the chickens snuggled in Dawn’s lap. There is a faint memory there, a foggy image of a beautiful landscape, but for something this picturesque to be a reality? That’s not possible, must be an exaggeration! Even though her grandmother swears it to be true, Dawn can only chalk it up to nostalgia and happy times long past.
“I’m sorry we never came to visit you in Pokyo but we’ll make up for it. Just let us know when we can visit the farm again and we’ll grab the first flight to the mainland!”
Dawn can only respond with a reassuring almost believable smile. Because she wasn’t nervous enough already, now the expectations to make it presentable was on the table! But this knot in her stomach is different than the usual nerves, moving to Pokyo was one kind of beast she tackled all by herself but this isn’t the same. This is good, this is exciting, it’s fresh and warm, like looking forward to a glass of lemonade on a hot summers day. Maybe this time she’ll be able to finish the bag of spinach.
~~~
Mayor Connor was much friendlier than Dawn expected. She was used to the corporate politeness people in a higher position exude, but this felt sincere – he was actually happy to meet her! The conversation flowed naturally, from brief discussion about the wonderful weather (Dawn couldn’t remember the last time the air felt this fresh, the sky so blue) to a kind inquiry about her family, grandparents and parents and how life is going for them. Until finally the conversation turned to the town, fittingly named Scarlet Town, and how things haven’t been going so well lately. The mention of an oil company with their creeping oil spill putting a sour taste in everyone’s mouth.
But the flavour is quickly washed away as Dawn finally set her gaze on the farm, the land her grandparents talked so proudly about. Mayor Connor apologised for the state of decay it’s fallen to but that seems to go in one ear and out the other – there was nothing to apologise for! All of this, overgrown trees, grass up to your waist, dry soil crackling under their feet.. all of this was hers! So much land, so much space with two little ponds either side. Back in Pokyo it would take a 40-minute train journey just to see this much greenery. And yet here she was, presented with this land to cultivate from the ground up, to grow and care for, watch it turn into something beautiful.
‘So this is the place my grandmother always talks about...’ The stories came up with every visit, and now it was all starting to make sense – it was so easy to see how this could become more than just a plot of land to farm on. It could become the home her family used to have here.
It took Dawn a few minutes of reassuring the mayor that there really isn’t anything to apologise for until he nodded with a puzzled look. The nervous knot in her stomach was replaced with a fluttering excitement. There was so much to do, so much to see!
Before she can begin though, it was time to meet the local carpenters that kindly agreed to fix up the old cottage Dawn now call home for free. As anxious as she was to meet an entire town of strangers (although this town isn’t even as big as the company she used to work for) this anxiety begins to calm thanks to the lovely initial introductions by Joko and Dinda.
“Come by anytime. You’re always welcome to some food and a drink.” Dinda patted her shoulder reassuringly before leaving. Something about her touch feels so warm and welcoming, like she actually means it – not a hollow invitation like from the city but actually welcome to food and a drink.
And just like that, all the guests are gone and Dawn left standing in her land.. Her land!
If she weren’t so exhausted (and slightly jet-lagged), she’d be jumping for joy!
But her boots felt heavy, clothes sticky, and forehead just a little too sweaty to be comfortably celebrating. There’s too much work to be done to celebrate so soon. But she couldn't help but laugh while gathering her luggage and walking towards the broken cottage. Actually feel excited for the day ahead – what a beautiful feeling.
The floorboard creaked as she stepped through the door. It’s humble for sure but nothing Dawn’s not used to. It’s missing the fresh landlord-special paint on the wall and the wonky touch-pad stove but it still feel cosier than half the places for rent in Pokyo. Joko and Dinda were even kind enough to provide a new mattress and bedding with some basic furniture. It’s not much but gives the place an even comfier feeling. Although.. good thing it’s spring, those windows are so thin they can be called a curtain instead. And there is definitely a spider living in one of the corners... But hey, some extra glass and some lemongrass pots, and everything will be right as rain!
~~~
After a crisp but slightly cold shower in the metaphorically new shower (it’s been a while since Dawn had seen a green toilet but it is her grandmother’s favourite colour) the task of “introduce yourself to the whole town” feels a little less daunting than when Mayor Connor first suggested it.
Fresh set of farmer clothes purchased from a tucked-away outdoors shop in Pokyo (browns, reds and greens – the colours of basically Dawn’s entire wardrobe) and a brave face, it was time to socialise.
The farm cultivation and clearing can wait until tomorrow. After all, for the first time in a very long time.. What’s the rush?
~~~
There's only so much socialising one person can take before they have to excuse themselves. 'To unpack' as Dawn said.
Turns out there wasn’t much to unpack. And even less to unpack onto.
Good thing Dawn barely brought anything because the singular closet could only hold so much – her favourite sweaters and second pair of overalls already taking the majority of the space. But there was just enough room to prop up the little decoration she had and leave a gap for the furniture she would eventually accumulate. An armchair here, a little desk there, maybe a new kitchen? Alright, definitely a new kitchen – the sad rusty mini-fridge and tiny cooker/oven with a single counter-space was going to be enough for now but definitely not forever. The green bathroom she could life with but the rest was going to be improved, preferably sooner rather than later.
But here she was – brand new place and already thinking of changes, already five steps ahead when her foot wasn’t even planted firmly on the first.
‘Can’t just take it easy, can I? Silly me...’ Dawn huffed at her only mirror. So many new faces in a single day, her own reflection was starting to feel foreign. It didn’t feel fair, how much of herself she felt like she left in the very city that took so much from her. She used to have so much life, so much vigor before this ‘big fancy job’ that everyone was so happy she got. Such a rare opportunity yet the only thing that became rare was a good-night’s sleep. Despite the sad look of the crumbled bed, something told her she would sleep more peacefully on that pillow than any of the fancy city pillows she tried throughout the years (spoilers – it wasn’t the pillows keeping her from sleeping).
But before she could go to sleep, something still felt unfinished. It wasn’t the unpacking (which took negative 3 minutes), it wasn’t the farm (which would take positive 3 minutes), it wasn’t the phonecall she just had with her grandparents and then parents about the move.
It was about the open invitation to the town tavern. Alice had shown her where it was earlier, right next to the coffee place, right next to the beautiful view of the beach. It wasn’t that she didn’t know how to find it, it was that she wasn’t sure if she wanted to.
She wasn’t in the city anymore, she knew she wasn’t in the city anymore – when someone invites you to go drinking, you don’t have to say yes! This wasn’t a business meeting, there was no obligation to attend. But there also wasn’t an obligation to invite her, every invitation so far had been genuine. But maybe even though they were genuine, they were necessary? Maybe the invitation was obligatory out of some ‘small-town’ mentality that meant the invitation had to be there but didn’t mean it had to be taken. Or maybe that’s exactly what it had to be - it had to be provided, it had to be taken, even if both parties didn’t want the other to be there. Because those were the social rules! And you have to follow the social rules! Do you want to be an outsider on your first day?!
It was very easy to drown out the little voice in her head that was mean to her when she was in Pokyo – there was enough noise to drown out any little voice in her head, whether good or bad. There wasn’t any time to listen to either voice, places to be, people to talk to, hands to shake and deals to strike.
But now everything was quiet, the birds were going to sleep and the crickets were awake, and everything else was just the ringing in her ears and the tapping of her foot on the porch. Eventually she would have to make a decision otherwise the decision would be made for her. Is it better to be left out because you chose to be left out or because your indecision left you out?
New life, new rules. New life, new voice in your head.
After a little touch-up of her frizzy curls and a change to a clean not-sweaty shirt (the overalls are fine, denim doesn’t get dirty, right?) Dawn stepped out of the door with a stubborn yet anxious determination. She was going to take the invitation, whether it was genuine or not!
It was easy to remember the route, it already felt imprinted in her brain despite the short time she spent here. There was something familiar, automatic in her path. Maybe old memories from her childhood were helping.
It wasn’t long before Dawn was face-to-face with the tavern door. The lights were on, the air was cold but the heat exuding from the building was more than enough to warm her bare arms (maybe a short-sleeve wasn’t such a good idea). The air was salty with hints of tobacco and some kind of fried food shifting whenever the wind came. The voices inside were muffled but lively, the sound of the waves crashing on the beach accompanying the happy orchestra with a soft background. The door was waiting to be opened. Just waiting.
Her outreached hand didn’t move.
There was something so pleasant in just being there, just hearing the pleasant cheers from inside without actually being apart of it. She did that often in her studio – people-watching was one of her favourite activities on the rare occasions she was allowed to work from home. It was such a soft activity, daydreaming about the different lives being lead just outside her window. All the exciting stories being made, all the better experiences everyone else was having. Everyone but her.
Why was there something so comforting in watching others lead their lives but not actually leading yours? Why did it ache less to watch and admire from afar than to try and join?
The cheers from the tavern got louder for a second before music started playing. Maybe people were dancing. That was a nice image. The windows were foggy from the heat, despite the earlier spring sun it was now a cold evening.
Take it or leave it, you can’t just stand at the door all-night long.
Dawn’s hand gripped the door handle.
Before she could pull it open, it was being pushed in her direction. Introductions were one thing, a full tumble was a whole other.
“Woah, woah, woah!” A melodic voice came from the stumbling figure. Dawn gracefully stepped to the side of the open door as the man tried to regain his balance, lost out of seemingly nowhere. This was a familiar tumble Dawn knew very well, countless bar meetings and late-night commutes made her very familiar with this tumble. This dude was drunk.
“Oh man, that door is heavier than it was earlier! Thanks for helping me open it, would’ve been here all night otherwise!” His voice was slightly hoarse, presumably from shouting through the loud voices inside, but it held a certain firmness in it. His accent also complimented how he said every word, despite the slight struggle in his demeanour.
Finally, he stood tall and somewhat steady, squaring up his shoulders proudly and placing his hands on his waist. Just like many other people here, he stood a few inches above Dawn (she was average height, why is everyone here so tall?!) with a slim figure.
Dawn let the door to the tavern close as he extended his hand, the sound of the chatter inside softening behind the thick wooden door.
“The name’s Scott. And who are you, my dashing rescuer?” He grinned a perfectly pristine smile.
His blond hair was ruffled, less in a styled manner and more in a ‘splashed-water-on-my-face’ way, his cheeks were sprinkled with patches of red, his loosely buttoned shirt revealing a few speckles of sweat down his chest. Dawn tried not to look for too long, although if she took longer than considered polite, he didn’t seem to notice.
Her hand was much smaller than his, and unlike before it was her hand that was cold while his was absolutely boiling.
“Dawn. Always happy to help.” She smiled as he shook it a bit more enthusiastically than she was prepared for.
“Dawn. What a name, Dawn. You sure are my dawn, am I right?!” He elbowed her playfully, still shaking her hand with raised eyebrows.
The laugh from Dawn wasn’t out of pity, it certainly wasn’t because it was a good joke (or a joke that made sense) but because of how pleased with himself he looked. So impatient, waiting for her to laugh with all her heart and congratulate him on such a spectacular quip. That alone was far more entertaining than any joke he could’ve made.
“I don’t know what that means.” She couldn’t help but remark as they laughed for a bit. That only made him laugh more.
“Me neither!” He was way too proud of that, which only made her laugh more.
He was still shaking her hand, this time extending his other hand to her shoulder.
“You are absolutely freezing! Why are you so cold, we gotta warm you up!” Without much warning, both his hands went up and enveloped Dawn’s shoulders either side, squeezing and trying to collect every bit of open skin.
For an uncountable amount of time today, Dawn felt her cheeks rush with colour and it wasn’t from the temperature change.
Being a sober person with a drunk person was always an interesting dynamic. It always left Dawn feeling like she wasn’t in on a joke that everyone else knew but in a good way – it wasn’t a good joke anyway. Like they were laughing at the completely wrong thing while she knew the whole joke and was already done laughing. Sure, she drank but never to the point of her jokes not making sense (her jokes always made sense, thank you very much!)
And yet here she was, presented with a charming yet dishevelled handsome man, who was trying his best to warm her up like it was the most important thing in the world to him. Judging by the worried look on his face scrunching up his soft features, he really did think it was the most important thing in the world.
“I-it’s okay, I’m not cold..” Dawn meekly replied. It was very difficult to sound confident when a complete stranger, as dashing as this one was, was so enthralled with her. His hands were soft, his movements felt like they were trying to be deliberate but his inebriated state made them sloppy and not as precise as he seemed to want them to be. Her own hands were planted at her side in a rigid manner before she started to become aware that they do exist, and they found their place on his, trying to provide some invisible reassurance to his worry. His hands were absolutely boiling, and nearly twice as big as hers.
“Are you kidding?! Of course you’re cold, you’re exposed to the elements!” There was something very endearing in his genuine worry that she was ‘exposed to the elements’ (the elements being a slight breeze) something so soft in his tone despite the unwarranted panic.
His eyes were darting from shoulder to shoulder until they landed on hers, a deep frown compared to her wide-eyes ‘deer-in-the-headlights’ look. His frame slowly lowered down to hers until they were eye-level. His breathing was close enough she could feel it (or was he just breathing heavily?). For a second, he just scanned her face, the same analytical look taking point at different parts, different features, like a ticking clock going from one end to the other.
There was something so desperate in her desire to know what was going on in his head. This pathetic need to head his every thought, a thought that would hopefully be filled with her and her only. There was also something so embarrassing about how easily she was flustered at this drunk stranger, how easy it was for him to burrow his way between her eyes and make place in the gaps between.
How simple it would be to just shake him off and go on her merry way. But how much simpler it felt to just let this moment be, to just let this strange kind man worry about her in ways that she hadn’t been worried about in a long time. Unwarranted but not unwanted attention that no one had provided. Why was he so desperate to take care of a stranger like he wasn’t the one unsteady on his feet with a dry throat?
His hands stopped when her fingers interlaced with his. Anywhere his palm travelled on her bare skin, a hand-print of heat and electricity was left, only to be carried away by the chill of the fresh spring wind. Fresh spring carried fresh beginnings, and this felt just like that.
One of his hands squeezed her hand, filling the space where their fingers weren’t entwined together. The other one went up to her forehead and pressed hard against her skin.
‘Oh no. Oh boy. Oh noooo..’
If Dawn’s cheeks were red before, they were crimson now, the heat extending all the way to the tip of her ears and down to her chin. Almost like he knew there was something of his behind her skull, his hand had found it’s place exactly where she placed him. His palm lay flatly there like he was trying to keep it from dinging across the head, the touch alone magnetic enough to stop any ringing and focus only on the background waters splashing and cooling the air.
“You’re really warm here, have you got a fever? You might have a fever.” His brow was now scrunched like a diary page, and it didn’t take much thinking for both his hands to go up her face and cup her cheeks like she was the most precious thing in the world.
The yelp Dawn let out was muffled by her lips tightly pressed together, trying her damnedest not to make another sound, another move or else this movement might shatter. Might spill across the deck like a freshly made cocktail and snap his focus from this unnecessary fixation. Although despite her head was both full and empty at the same time, his fixation felt much more than unnecessary. It felt so desperately needed yet so meaningless – was he this bold with just anyone? If he was willing to care this much for a stranger, he would definitely care more for his friends. But if he cares this much for a stranger, if his fingers lay so gently on either side of her face like he was terrified she might crumble beneath them, how would his fingers lay if he knew she crumbled so easily? If she let herself crumble in front of him, would be hold her the same?
‘Stupid stupid thoughts, useless useless USELESS! Focus!’
“I-I’m fine, I promise! I’m all good!” Her hands went up to his and tried to gingerly pat away the worry. His finger automatically clipped her and pulled them together, like it was the most natural thing to do in the world. This made any bravery Dawn found disappear and melt under his heat.
“Nah no, definitely not. You’ve got a fever, you’re cold and hot at the same time!” He shook his head with worry.
With a snap, he leaned back up, his hands moving from her face down to her shoulders again and pulling her along.
“C’mon, let’s go! We’re gonna go see Charles!” He didn’t wait for a response, only started walking with his arm around her shoulder. His body felt even warmer than his hands.
“Who’s Charles?!”
Scott seemed to stumble a bit at her question, almost like he was just realizing who she was, who she actually was.
He was already leaning on her smaller frame a bit too much than he should’ve, causing her left side to be fully pressed against his and gripping his left to keep him for swaying too much (completely ignoring how it felt like he had zero body fat, were those abs she could feel through the shirt?!).
“Charles’s my roommate. And he’s a doctor. Can’t believe you haven’t met Charles, are you sure you haven’t met Charles? Everyone knows Charles...” His own mumbling helped his continue on his way to wherever his house was, using Dawn only as a wall to converse with and a wall to lean on. Although despite his fumbling and nonsense chatter, his right hand gripped her shoulder like she was a life raft at sea. But his thumb caressing up and down every once in a while reminded her he was her life raft at this very moment.
She knew Charles – of course she knew Charles! He was one of the very first people Alice introduced, alongside the warning not to bring him a single flower or feel the wrath of his allergies. ‘Leave some anti-histamines for the rest of the island’ she had joked as they walked away. Nice fellow, very polite.
It was hard to imagine someone as seemingly reserved as Charles co-existing with someone as chaotic as Scott, currently narrating the full plot of Indiana Jones and how it was loosely based on his archaeological adventures (wasn’t he from Mew York?).
The walk seemed much longer than it should’ve, considering the town could be walked in it’s entirely in 30 minutes or less. But the two of them were walking slowly with Scott stopping often to either go on another monologue, or to pick up flowers only to heart-breakingly put them back with the words ‘for Charles’.
He would ask Dawn some questions as well from time to time. But not questions like ‘what was life in Pokyo’ or ‘what are your plans for the farm’. No, the questions were ‘what’s your favourite dinosaur’ (and then explaining why the term ‘dinosaur’ is as accurate as the term ‘fish’ and ‘bug’) and ‘if you had to choose one of these forever, would you choose croissant or pie’. Very important questions that surely were a great judge of character.
It was endearing, warming even to have someone simply talk for the sake of talking. So many people carefully chose their words and never said anything extra to most topics. But Scott seemed to talk for the sake of talking, for the sake of keeping the conversation going, for the sake of letting all his thoughts out into the world. Like they so desperately needed to be heard or else they might disappear. Or else they might not matter. And to Scott, and at this moment to Dawn – those seemingly irrelevant thoughts definitely mattered.
“This is it!” Scott finally exclaimed in front of a beautiful house. Alice hadn’t taken Dawn this part of town today, probably because it was all residentials, judging by the look.
“Welp, this is me!” He turned to face Dawn, moving his hands to hold both her shoulders.
“This was so much fun, I had so much fun! Did you have fun? I hope you did, let’s do it again sometime!” And just like every single invitation ever extended to Dawn in Coral island, she very much knew he meant that.
A smile couldn’t help but spring on her face – even though he had completely forgotten the reason they came here, she was still happy to have walked with him all this way. Despite the moon hanging high and the stars shinning bright, this would be the safest she’d felt in years walking home.
“Goodnight, Scott.” Dawn patted him on the shoulder before turning to walk away. His hands remained steadfast on her shoulders.
“Where are you going?” He asked, sounding way more puzzled than he should.
Dawn raised her eyebrows at him in amusement.
“... Home? I live here?”
“You live here? But this is my house.. are you my new roommate?”
Dawn couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.
“I live on the farm, Scott.”
The look of realization washed on his face like a splash of cold water.
“Oh! Oh yeah, you do! You’re the new farmer!” He laughed much louder than he should at this time of night.
And apparently he had talked much louder than he should’ve.
The door to his house opened with a frowning Charles in a nightgown standing on the other side.
“Scott? Scott, what are you doing out—“
He stopped as soon as he saw Dawn. She gave an awkward wave, still firmly in the grasp of Scott. Charles didn’t hide his confusion well as he just looked between the two of them with an impressively puzzled expression.
Scott seemingly began to glow as soon as he saw Charles.
“Charles, buddy! I’m so glad to see you!” Finally Dawn was free of his grip and instead it was Charles’s turn to be ensnared by Scott, this time in an iron hug. He made an ‘oofm’ noise when the blond man wrapped his arms around him.
“I missed you, dude! You should come out to the tavern with us more often, it’s not the same without you!”
“I have work in the morning, Scott.. and so do you..” Charles’s muffled voice could be heard from Scott’s bear hug. Dawn simply watched in amusement, her hands instinctively crossing at her front with palms covering the open space Scott had left (it was definitely colder now).
“Work.. Ew. Yeah, you’re right.. Gross.. I should shower, shouldn’t I?” Scott dreamily replied, still blissfully unaware of the terrible hangover that faced him the next day.
“Yes, you should. You smell like beer and sweat.” Charles wasn’t sugarcoating it. After his initial reluctance into Scotts' arms, he was now gently pushing his way out. Like trying to get up from a beanbag chair.
“Whaaat, no, I don’t! Tell him I don’t smell, Dawn!” Scott turned to Dawn, who simply put her hands up.
“I’m not getting involved in this, this feels like a personal conversation. Roommate to roommate.” She grinned at a groaning Charles.
Scott seemed to beam a bit.
“That’s us, Charles! Roommates!”
“Yes, Scott. Roommates.”
Dawn tried her best to stifle a laugh at the image. What a fun town this is turning out to be!
“Can I walk you home?” Charles offered, head still squished between Scott’s arms.
“Oh, thank you but I’m okay, promise!”
“Are you sure? Just give me five minutes to change, and to uh...” His gaze shifted up to Scott, who was politely listening in on the conversation, his look also shifting between the two (blissfully unaware of his involvement in the 5 minutes).
In the city, Dawn would’ve definitely taken Charles up on the offer. And then offered him a taxi for the way back home, just to make sure everyone got back safely. And even though this wasn’t the city, and she would be perfectly fine, he seemed to genuine, so thoughtful, it felt almost rude to turn down his offer. Turn down the offer of good company, and further continue the conversation.
Almost.
“I’m sure. Thank you though, I’ll take you up on that offer another time.”
Charles gave a nod.
“Get home safe, Dawn. Hope you had a pleasant first day on the island.” With a kind wish, he began to close the front door.
“Welcome to Coral island!” Scott couldn’t help but callout right before Charles shut the door, leaving Dawn standing in the streetlight, chill spring breeze picking up with a sweet prickling feeling on her exposed skin. The scent of the sea stronger than ever, the waves picking up their steps and crashing on the shore.
What a great welcome it was.