The Stargazer (Shane/Harvey X Reader)

Dim and Gusty

    A deep swig of ale later, you are typing a reply in a bit of an anger-induced haze, letting the second serving of beer do the bulk of the talking.

    Dad,

    Everything is well on the farm, I've settled in and have been making friends. The work is hard but manageable, I'm entirely capable.

    I have no internet at the farm, I can only reply when I'm using wi-fi at the pub, I'm not ignoring you.

    -(Y/N)

    But is that entirely true? This is not the first night you've spent in the saloon nor the first opportunity to have replied to his somewhat reluctant messages. Still, you hit send without changing anything and swig down more ale. The drink is not sitting well in your empty stomach, you can't help but curse Gus (just this once) for aspiring to be top chef.

    Ringing emanates from the bell hook on the saloon door, and a small posse of adults around your age, maybe a year or two younger, crowd into the saloon. They bump against each other in a careless manner and two speak much more loudly than necessary. You recognize a girl with purple hair as one of the participants from last week's egg hunt. She makes a clear effort to stick by the side of a quiet boy dressed for a wake. An avoidance to be near her is clear as he sidesteps or changes pace to detract himself from her. His face is almost entirely blank, seeming like he hasn't a care in the world.

    However, quite willingly, the boy in black laughs subtly alongside yet another villager you recognize from the egg festival. The carefully styled mullet of blonde hair would be hard to mistake for anyone else. Of the three he is the most energetic, essentially carefree.

    The sight only seems to make you grumpier, having such giddy patrons so close to your little bubble of growing upset. As they dip into the side room of the pub, you hope they stay there for a while and allow you the peace necessary to wallow in rage. The only company you are hoping to find tonight is that of Shane, he could be easily confided in. Even if he didn't respond verbally to your grievances, he would be sure to listen intently.

    A notification dings from your phone as you're tossing down the final bit of your ale. Promptly you find Emily across the room and waggle the empty glass in the air, she nods in understanding. With a new rush of liquid courage coursing through you the idea of speaking to your father is less dreadful, in fact, it's a bit thrilling to be so brash.

    (Y/N),

    The offer still stands, though I know you have the need to make your mother proud, think realistically about the choice you've made. I know you are entirely capable of looking to my example and following suit, but you are your mother's daughter.

    There is no need to explain your reasons for not communicating with me, I already have a good enough understanding as to why you've decided not to do so.

    -Dad

    Phillip Morgan, COO.

    With that, your mood is entirely topped off. Slamming your phone onto the tabletop earns a side glance from a very circular man masked behind an unpleasant goatee. There is little decency left in your mind now and you reward him with a sarcastic sneer. He looks taken aback and turns to his drink, alone at a large table.

    With impeccable timing Emily is back at your table with a third ale and two small glasses of brown liquor. Though showing genuine concern for your mood, she really was serious about giving you something a little stronger.