Chapter Text
A phone alarm blaring way too close to Cedar’s ear was the first thing he had to deal with on the third of Fall. He shot up before pausing, looking down at his bed as the unnecessary adrenaline coursed through his body. With a sigh, he reached and pressed his phone screen, dismissing the alarm. The man sat still, waiting for his heartbeat to slow, before picking up his phone and checking the time.
“Seven thirty, huh?” Cedar asked no-one in particular before looking at his cat as he entered the doorway with a meow. “You let me fall asleep with my phone as a pillow…” Cedar climbed off the bed, patted down his gray shirt before continuing his lecture. “You don’t even look concerned about my hearing. You’re only here because its time to eat.” Cedar put a hand on his hip like a parent waiting for a child’s reply. The black cat brushed against Cedar’s legs eagerly, looking up at the man briefly before continuing to headbutt or brush against him. “I’m taking that as a yes, but..” Bending down, dark green locks fall into the twenty-five year old’s face as he takes the cat into his arms. “It's alright, Lasagna. Cans won’t open themselves.” Brushing one of the more annoying strands of shoulder length hair behind his ear, Cedar made his way to the kitchen.
Heading to one of the lower cabinets in the kitchen, the cat’s claws digging into his shoulder, Cedar carefully helped the animal climb to his destination. “Ow.. Yup.. Okay, take your time...” Once Lasagna was stable, Cedar bent down to open the cabinet. He retrieved a single can, gently swatted the cabinet closed, and walked to the right side of the fridge where the food and water bowls waited. As the man opened the lid, Lasagna clearly grew more interested and squirmed around more, unintentionally causing his claws to sink into his owner again. With a quiet hiss through clenched teeth, Cedar squatted down and emptied the can into the food bowl quickly, Lasagna leaping down as soon as he could, trying to eat even as Cedar tried to shake out the remaining contents of the can. “Man, you act like I don’t feed you.” After a few quick strokes of the cat’s back, Cedar stood, chucked the food can into the garbage, and made himself breakfast next.
An hour later, Cedar stood next to his chicken coop, clad in a pair of dark blue jeans that never seemed to look clean no matter how many washes they’ve been through, and a newer hoodie that was quickly following suit. He was in the middle of watching his hens enjoy some feed and fresh air, before he remembered that he had promised Gus two dozen eggs. Due today. The man whistled at the realization while he pulled his hair into a messy bun.
Can’t forget that.
“Alright, ladies. Let’s see what you’ve got for me.” Cedar ducked into the coop, grabbing the basket he leaves just inside the doorway for collecting eggs. He was quick with the work, having only five chickens so far. Before long, the man emerged, eyes immediately searching for his oldest brown hen. It only took a few seconds for his gaze to lock onto her. “Pinto,” Cedar paused as he walked past her, “Ms.Pinto Bean. The amount of eggs you left for me was almost concerning.” The hen stared for a long moment, before going back to pecking the ground.
—
Cedar’s hands dug into the pocket of his gray joggers, searching for his lighter. With the eggs collected, and a quick inspection of his pumpkin seeds completed amongst his other morning chores, Cedar felt like he was weightless.. He showered, dressed in his comfy fall usual of a simple hoodie, joggers, and boots, and delivered Gus his two dozen eggs for that famous omelet of his. That was all of his chores out of the way for the day, which he could assume would be surprising to some other farmers this time of year, but Cedar’s income didn’t rely heavily on crop sales. Although, mid and late Fall were the busiest times of the year for him. All the pumpkins that would be used in Fall favorite foods, activities and events were grown on his farm, and it had been this way for a few years now. The hens and his trees did most of the work. Cedar just had to show up and collect their offerings.
Lighter in hand, Cedar lit his cigarette. After returning the lighter to his front pocket, his hand reached to his back pocket to retrieve the letter he was lucky to notice as he left the farm.
Now let’s see what this guy hadda say…
It was a letter from Elliott that Cedar had only briefly skimmed before shoving it into his pocket, deciding to finish off his chores before potentially adding a new one.
Good Morning, Cedar
I hope things are well on the farm. I know you must be busy as you begin your usual Fall duties, but I was wondering if you would be able to stop by my cabin sometime today at your earliest convenience. I’m finding myself a bit lost, and I do not know where else to turn. I always see you helping others, so you were the first person I thought of. Though I understand if this isn’t something you can help me with! I’m aware this is very short notice, and hope this isn’t an inconvenience for you. Even if you stop by just to decline, the brief break may be good for the old gears.
Kind regards, Elliott.
Cedar stared at the letter for a moment, green eyes narrowing as he quickly skimmed it again before flipping it over to see if there was anything else written on the back. It seemed unlikely, and he was right to think so.
There’s no actual favor being asked in here… I guess I gotta show up to find out what he wants.
Cedar turned his wrist to check his watch. It was only one-thirty. Plenty of time to go see what Elliott needed help with. Maybe he could even help him work out whatever it was and have time to go fishing.
Not a lot of work. Leads to money and possibly tonight's dinner. I don’t see any cons.
Elliott and Cedar’s friendship mostly revolved around the Stardrop Saloon. They were drinking buddies when they managed to bump into each other. They exchanged waves in town, and the occasional letter containing a new fish based recipe for Cedar to try.. Rarely, Cedar would send a polaroid picture or two of whatever weird thing he had found in town or the mines that week. Even more rare was the event of either of the two going over to the other’s house, or setting up an actual date and time to hang out. Anything noteworthy was usually something the whole town attended anyway, and the two always met up and talked at said events.
With a shrug, Cedar folded the letter and put it back into his pocket, fixing the hem of his black hoodie afterwards. Suddenly, he remembered he was smoking a cigarette, and quickly removed it from his mouth to tap it a few times, the excess ash falling to the ground. Cedar brushed off the small amount that had fallen onto his hoodie while he was distracted, before making his way to the beach.
—
Cedar was in the middle of knocking when Elliott’s cabin door flung open, hand still hovering in the air as the two stood in brief silence.
“Cedar! You came!” Elliott exclaimed, eyes bright as if Cedar was the first person he’d seen in days. As Cedar lowered his arm, Elliott gestured for him to come into the cabin. Cedar smiled politely. “Yeah, today was pretty easy. Schedule is clear for the rest of the day, so it was no problem.” As the green haired man walked past Elliott, he began to fully process what he actually looked like today.
This man seemed to be.. Somewhat of a mess compared to his usual self. His hair was down as usual, and although it didn’t look bad, it could probably use a quick brush through it. Elliott’s white button-up shirt was undone at the top two buttons, no tie in sight. The floor around his desk was littered with crumpled papers. A few had large X’s, or circles with an even bigger X over them. Cedar walked to the middle of the room, before turning on his heel to face Elliot. Hands in his hoodie pocket, he waited for the other to tell him what the plan was.
As Elliott closed the door, he turned quickly, clasping his hands together. “I’m thrilled that you’re here! I feel like I’ve been locked in here for days with no end in sight. So,” Elliott put his hands on his hips. “You’ll help me? I completely understand if something like this isn’t your thing, however. Like I said in my letter, I think some company would do me some good either way.”
There was an awkward silence as Cedar waited for Elliott to say what the thing he needed help with even was, and Elliott grew anxious as Cedar remained straight faced. Seeing this, Cedar decided to break the silence. “Ah, well. I am down to help, but-” Cedar raised a finger the moment Elliot appeared to glow with happiness, and the man quickly recoiled slightly, blinking at Cedar. “Elliott, I have no idea what you actually need help with. I could be selling my soul to you right now,” the man joked with a smirk as he continued, “But I have no idea, because you didn’t actually include what you want in your letter.”
Elliott clearly and silently went through a wave of emotions, the most prominent being confusion. “I.. I didn’t mention it in my letter?” He took said letter as Cedar held it out to him. Holding the piece of paper with both hands, the taller man’s eyes swiftly scanned the words he’d written on the page. Cedar waited patiently, keeping any comments to himself as it was clear Elliott was going through a stressful time.
“Ah.. I see.. I really didn’t mention anything specific.” Elliot lowered the paper to his side, his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. “My sincerest apologies, Cedar. I’ve been so all over the place, I’m almost not surprised that I’ve managed to do this.” Elliot’s hand left his face to push back his hair, catching in a few small knots toward the end.
“My problem is.. I’m having the toughest time with my book, you see.” As Elliott freed his fingers from his hair, he gestures to the desk covered in papers. “I asked Leah for ideas a long time ago. These days she’s really busy with a new art piece, so I don’t want to disturb her again... Willy has been out at sea, so I steeled myself and have been trying my hardest the past few days with as few distractions as possible, but nothing feels right. I'll believe I have a wonderful idea, work on it for a few weeks, and then it feels like it has gone stale, or I realize I accidentally came up with the plot of a book I read in the past. I feel like I’m driving myself mad with nothing to show for it.”
Elliott took a breath before he walked over to his desk, setting the letter down near a slightly wilting rose. "I'm starting to neglect my appearance, I may not be sleeping properly…" He reached out a hand to delicately touch a red petal. “I’ve barely paid any attention to my flower here as well.”
“Yeah, you need to take a step back and collect yourself. You’re definitely trying too hard. Last I heard, you didn't have an actual deadline, right?” Cedar took a few steps closer to Elliott’s desk as the other man plopped down into his chair, looking somewhat defeated. Elliot sighed. “Well, technically no. Not from anyone but myself. I won’t get anywhere if I don’t impose my own deadlines, the book won’t write itself… I’ve mentioned it before, but I came here to be inspired, you know? Yet, somehow, I feel as though I am anything but..” Elliott groaned, briefly lowering his head, face blocked behind a curtain of auburn hair. “It must be the pressure of needing to follow Camellia Station with something of equal success, if not more.”
Cedar hummed in acknowledgement, rocking back and forth slightly as he thought. “Well… You look like you could use a break. Why don’t you go shower or something and I can look over whatever you have so far?”
Elliot sat still, only raising his head. “Do I.. give off the air that I haven’t showered?”
Cedar’s brows rose. “No, no, I didn’t mean like that-” The shorter man waving his hand was quickly interrupted. “You’re right, Cedar,” Elliott sighed as he pushed his hands to his knees, standing. “I feared I looked.. Less than ideal. I can feel it, too.” Taking a long look at his desk, Elliott took a few moments to look amongst the papers for the notes he wanted Cedar to see. The green haired farmer peeked from next to Elliott, watching as he made an attempt to separate some of the papers into what Cedar could only assume was the ‘garbage’ pile.
After double checking the ten papers in his hands, Elliott glanced over his shoulder at Cedar. “Oh, sorry.” Cedar backed up two feet, having been closer than he first thought to the other. Elliott waved a hand, “No, you were fine…”
“...”
“...”
“Is something wrong?”
“No! No, I just..” Elliott straightened, finally facing Cedar. “To be honest with you, I’m suddenly a bit nervous for you to read what I have so far. I believe it’s because I value your opinion, obviously, but it’s not every day I expose my incomplete works..” Another pause. Cedar waited quietly, though raised a brow. Elliott held out the papers. “... Here. These should have the gist.” Not exactly sure why he was being shy with his story ideas, Elliott decided to simply just hand them over so he could get his shower over with. He watched as Cedar’s eyes began to scan the first page. “Sorry, I know some of them are quite messy…” The writer cleared his throat, “Thank you for your help. I’m going to shower.”
Cedar gave Elliott a thumbs up and a nod as he went on his way. The green-haired man took a seat in Elliott’s chair, then glanced between his stack of papers and the various ones on the desk, before bringing his hands and papers to rest on the desk as well.
Wow, he’s right. Cedar skimmed through the top three pages. Some of this is really messy. You can clearly tell when he calmly sat down and started versus when he was just trying to get something down on the paper. I need to take this guy for some drinks or something…
Cedar got to work with reading Elliott’s notes. He did his best to make sense of the sudden cut off’s, previous sentences quickly turning into new and unrelated ideas. Some paragraphs had arrows drawn to show where the previous thoughts eventually continued. One or two even had a “Cont.Next Pg.” note, and Cedar would have to shuffle the papers to find out which one was originally ‘next’. Cedar didn’t want to mess with Elliott’s papers, but he felt a deep, deep need to at least put them in some kind of order. If not for himself, for Elliot’s sake. In small font he hoped Elliott wouldn’t mind, Cedar numbered the pages one through ten in the top right corner of each page. If Elliot was okay with that, maybe he could help him further organize or possibly re-write some of the papers.
Cedar had just finished writing the number ten on the last page as Elliott emerged from the bathroom. “Hey, I-” The younger male did a double-take, before continuing, “I made some really small notes on your papers, I numbered them at the top so they were in some kind of order instead of, uh..”
“Oh? You did? You were able to piece together what I’d written?” Elliott quickly joined Cedar at the desk, excited to see what he had done even though it was such a small gesture. Cedar handed the papers to Elliott, who scanned them and their corresponding numbers, briefly pausing to look at each page before smiling. “That’s perfect! I’ve been trying to get my papers in order for a while, but I always get distracted. I start adding to them or start new ones instead.”
Cedar stared at the man while he spoke, though it was clear it wasn’t due to his superb active listening skills. It was just the first time Cedar had seen the writer in anything other than a button down. Yet here he was, damp hair haphazardly cascading down over broad shoulders, presumably freshly ruffled by a towel.
“Cedar, did you hear me?”
The shorter male blinked before finally making eye contact with Elliott. “No, sorry, what?” He silently prayed Elliott didn’t think he was being creepy.
“Is it this?” The man tugged at his shirt. Form fitting, but not too tight. Just a regular white shirt. “I guess you’ve never seen me in more comfortable clothes. I don’t plan on going out today, so I thought this might be better to sit around in.” Elliott laughed lightly. “Sorry that I’ve managed to catch you off guard.”
“Yeah, sorry for staring. I know it’s not a big deal but… Yeah, I’ve just never seen you in a T-shirt before.” Cedar shrugged with a grin. “Feels weird, but I’ll get over it. What was your question, by the way?” Cedar shifted in the seat before setting his hands in his hoodie’s pockets.
Unlike Cedar, Elliott straightened up, sounding and looking quite sincere and serious. “I want your opinion on my ideas- And to know any ideas you may have as well!”
The farmer nodded, “Right, of course.” Elliott stood closer, arm outstretched to hand over the papers. Cedar took them, and laid them out in front of him at the desk. Elliott stood over the younger man, one hand on the back of the chair, the other placed on the edge of the desk.
“To be honest, I like them all, but..” Cedar moved the paper’s around here and there, pointing at particular sections with a pen as he spoke. “You have some spots with a lot of detail, like when you talk about this guy… Like some things are really detailed but some are vague… This whole section here leaves me wanting to know way more which is a good kind of vague, but ..” Cedar paused, flipping the pen upside down and tapping it, retracting the tip. “All of your ideas sound good!” His head tilted back to look up at Elliot, “But there’s not enough context for me to figure out what genre you’re going for, and if and what any of these people’s relationship is with one another. So I can’t place any of these characters in a context that will make them seem even more interesting.”
Elliott’s eyes met Cedar’s green, seeming a bit surprised at the commentary, before he looked to the papers, then suddenly pulled both his hands to his face. Cedar turned in the chair so he could have an easier look at the other man, brow raised as Elliott dragged his hands down his face just enough to reveal his eyes and furrowed brow. Cedar stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankles as he waited for his friend’s response.
“I’m.. surprised you were able to catch on so quickly. That is exactly my problem. I have so many ideas for characters, and I want to use them all. But I have yet to figure out the actual plot…”
“It doesn’t seem to be a sequel to Camellia Station. So, are you moving out of the Romance-”
“You read Camellia Station?” Elliott’s eyes widened, interest clearly piqued as his hands were removed from his face, and clasped together in front of his chest. Cedar was caught off guard, trying to keep a straight face.
Oh shit. I never told him.
“Or are you just going off of what you remember about it from our past conversations?” Elliott inched closer as Cedar’s cheeks quickly turned pink from embarrassment, the younger of the two looking away.
“Uh, no. No, I did read it.. Actually.. It’s on my bookshelf…”
“On your bookshelf! I’m so happy to hear!” Elliott paused, taking in Cedar’s body language. “Is something wrong?.. Or, did you not like it?” The man quickly looked worried, but retracted as Cedar suddenly turned to face him again.
“No! No, I liked it! I, uh..”
I’d give anything for my face not to feel this hot right now.
“No one knows I read romance stuff is all…” As the words left his mouth, Cedar immediately regretted them. If he just agreed that he had read it, Elliott would believe he was simply supporting his friend’s work. But instead, he ratted out his own secret.
“... You enjoy romance novels?” Elliott asked innocently, and watched as his friend’s response was tossing his hood over his head, and pulling his hoodie strings taught, effectively causing Cedar’s face to disappear.
I would scream so loud in this house if only I could.
Cedar’s face grew hotter as Elliott suddenly erupted with laughter. “Cedar! That’s all? You had me worried you only kept my book out of pity!” The shorter man groaned while Elliot waited a few seconds before attempting to get himself under control enough to keep talking. “It’s fine if you’re a fan of the romance genre, clearly I am! There’s nothing to be ashamed about!” Elliott tried to stifle his laughter. Although he didn’t think Cedar would be upset about him laughing, he couldn’t recall having seen Cedar act like this when they’ve talked about anything else over the years.
As Elliott’s laughter was finally dying down, Cedar was carefully and slowly opening the hood up and taking it off. As he peeled the hood back, he was careful to not somehow catch his earrings on it, and reached up to fix one as his other hand finished pulling back the hood. His messy bun was a bit messier now, but nothing that required immediate attention. As both hands checked their side’s respective earrings, Cedar looked at Elliott, a somewhat grumpy look as his face was still red.
“I’m not ashamed! It’s just, like.. My one secret, y’know? I guess.” The man crossed his arms, the floor suddenly an interesting thing to look at. “The book was good, though…” Eyes flickering between Elliott and the wood, Cedar added, “A healthy dose of twists and turns. I thought it was sweet how…”
Cedar made eye contact with an extremely giddy looking Elliott, before moving to retreat into his hoodie again. Elliott called out in protest, lunging forward. He was eventually able to hear more of Cedar's thoughts on his novel, after some protest.