I was going to be a farmer.

It sounded like something an expecting parent would repeat over and over. I'm going to be a mother. No, I was going to be a farmer. And in my mind, that task was equally daunting and exciting. I could already imagine myself choosing my seeds each season with care. Maybe, secretly, I would give them names as I planted them.

The boat captain, Pascal, had asked me question upon question as we approached Castanet Island. For all I knew, he could have been kidnapping me. I was almost twenty. Though technically an adult, I never felt like it. In fact, I was still intimidated by groups of teenagers younger than me whenever I went to the mall.

Presently, I was standing face-to-face with a short, round man who claimed to be the mayor. The button on his suit strained with the task of holding his jacket together, and his hair seemed like the interesting result of a salon product experiment.

"Why, hello." He clapped his hands together. "I'm Mayor Hamilton, but please, just call me Hamilton. You must be Angela." There was a grin on his face that unnerved me a little, but I tried to be pleasant.

"That's me. Angela Williams. Nice to meet you." I glanced around at the town. Numerous shops and houses were stacked on top of each other in a rainbow of pastel colors. It reminded me of a storybook town. My previous apprehension dissolved and a surge of cheerful energy took its place.

"Wonderful," Hamilton continued. "You're going to love it here. We haven't had visitors for a few years. It's a shame, really."

I nodded and peered over his shoulder to see several people walking around. There were two girls, both with bright blue eyes and cotton-candy-colored hair. The taller one had thick braids and a long, patchwork shirt, while the shorter, in contrast, wore a pale yellow sundress. Her hair was adorned with flowers.

Another girl, who also appeared to be around my age, walked out of a building near the dock. When she spotted me staring at her, she came over, flashing a smile.

"Hey. My name's Kathy," she said. "And that's my father, Hayden." She pointed to a burly man with a beard who just stepped out of the same building.

"I'm Angela, it's nice to—"

"Angela's taking over the old farm," Hamilton interrupted. "Isn't that fantastic?"

Kathy's emerald eyes sparkled. "I'll show you around. Then afterward, I'll take you to the bar where I work, and you can have some fun."

"Okay. Not too much fun, though." I laughed nervously. I didn't want to get tipsy on my first night in a new town.

"Don't worry. We serve food. Chase is an amazing cook. He can be kind of rude, but don't let that stop you from coming back. Just ignore him." Kathy grabbed my arm with one hand and my small bag with her other. She led me to the two girls I saw earlier.

Kathy introduced me to Luna, the girl in the yellow sundress, and her sister, Candace. They lived and worked at the Tailor's Shop with their grandmother. Luna surveyed me up and down with a hand on her hip.

Her eyes weren't on my face. I looked down at my shirt and tried to see if anything was askew. Finally she said, "Nice to meet you. I hope you'll come by the shop soon."

After that awkward introduction that left me less than confident about my appearance, I was led around the corner. My breath caught in my throat when I saw the young man standing beneath an archway. His hair was pure light blond, and a few strands of hair flipped out in the front. My face began to redden. His eyes... his eyes were beautiful. Like refreshing crystal pools of water I wanted to swim in all day.

"Excuse me, I asked what your name was." His voice took me by surprise. I didn't even realize he had other features besides his eyes. It turned out that he had a mouth too. He had been asking me something, and I was spacing out and staring at him. Not a good first impression. My gaze averted down to his lips. He was frowning.

"Um." I stood there with my mouth gaping like a fish for several seconds before I could remember what my name was. "Angela. I mean… yeah, that's my name. Williams. Uh. Angela Williams. Hi."

Stellar performance, I thought. After that, I closed my eyes and willed myself to evaporate into the air.

It didn't work.

"My name is Gill," he said, holding out his hand. It was then that I noticed the rest of his outfit. He wore a blue sweater vest with plaid shorts. Actually, they seemed too long to be considered shorts, but too short to be pants. Guy capris, is what I settled on.

Not wanting to make a complete fool of myself, I made sure my grasp didn't linger longer than his. It was too bad I couldn't instantaneously dry my clammy hands before touching him, though.

He continued, "I'm the mayor's one and only son. Come to me if there's anything you need."

"Wait, you're the mayor's son?" I asked. "As in Mayor Hamilton?" The resemblance was nil.

"Yes, that's what I said. I have work to do now. Nice meeting you, Angela. I expect you'll restore the farm to its former glory?" Gill watched me for a moment, gauging my reaction. What was this? Some sort of intimidation tactic? I didn't say anything.

He turned to go into the nearby building, which I assumed was his house. Right before he opened the door, he paused. "A word of advice: try not to stare at people so much."

If my face wasn't red before, it was certainly on fire now. I wasn't staring. I was not staring. I was using my eyes for their intended purpose: to look at things. But maybe he used his to bake muffins or something, so he didn't understand. Maybe if he would actually open his eyes beyond that permanent glare people would accuse him of staring too. Then again, maybe he was simply a jerk, no excuses.

"Aw, don't worry about Gill. He's got a stick up his you-know-what," Kathy said, raising her eyebrows and smiling. "Everyone knows it, too. Don't take it personally."

She continued her tour of the town, and by the time we were finished, it was late in the afternoon. Much to my surprise, the town was filled with a wide variety of people. Some were painfully average, like Jake and Colleen, who ran the Inn with their daughter Maya. They were all welcoming, which was a relief, in comparison to the first two introductions I experienced. Some were strict and conservative; Irene, an elderly woman, worked at the clinic with her grandson, Jin. And some folks were downright eccentric. One example being an inhabitant of the fishery: a laid-back guy with puffy pants. Not too unusual, except that "laid-back" was putting it mildly. Right away he was encouraging me to take naps outside during nice weather.

"I have to start my shift at the bar soon. We have just enough time to get you settled into your house and come back here," Kathy said.

Together we walked down a dirt path that bordered the ocean. I knew it would take a while to get used to living so close to the water, which worried me, but overall I was convinced that Castanet was a great place to live. Everything was quiet here. There were no cars zooming down the street or airplanes flying overhead. The only sounds I could hear now were birds chirping, my own boots crunching on the ground, and the waves of the ocean.

I was so focused on the sounds that I didn't even notice when we had come upon an empty house. I frowned. It was rundown. More so than the brochure suggested. To be honest, slightly rundown wasn't the most accurate term. It was more along the lines of damaged beyond repair.

Next to the house, which I affectionately named the hobo shack, were two more buildings. My barn and coop. The siding was falling off, and part of the roof was missing on the smaller structure. I didn't worry too much. I knew I could probably fix it. Probably.

Kathy pushed open the squeaky door of the hobo shack and stepped inside. She plopped my bag on the floor near the bed and a small puff of dust billowed out from under it.

"It smells like dirt in here," she said.

"That's all right," I said. "It beats the smell of garbage." Back at my job in the city, I had to wait at a bus stop every morning that was plagued with the odor of rotting food. Even now, I still wondered who thought it was a good idea to have a dumpster behind a bus stop.

Kathy laughed.

I unzipped my bag and turned it upside down on the bed so its contents spilled out. There were several shirts, pants and shorts, a few pictures of family and friends, and my toothbrush, among other things.

"Those your parents?" Kathy pointed to a man and a woman in one of the pictures.

I nodded. "And here's my dog, Roscoe." I held up a picture of my curly-haired black dog. His breed was unknown, but he was undoubtedly the cutest dog I'd ever seen.

Kathy seemed to agree. "He's adorable. You couldn't bring him with you?"

"Dogs weren't allowed on the passenger boat, but I'll make sure he gets here somehow." I was sure of that. I couldn't live without Roscoe.

Just as I was about to start putting my stuff away, my stomach growled. That's when I remembered I had skipped breakfast and lunch today. I was starving.

"Oh, man. I think I'm going to be late for my shift." Kathy and I ran out the door and sprinted the entire way to the bar. I was incredibly dizzy by the time we reached the building and stepped inside.

"Sorry I'm late," Kathy panted. "I was showing Angela around. Did I miss anything?"

It took my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dim lighting. Everything was still hazy.

"I see you finally decided to show up," a voice said from the kitchen. "I'd rather not do everything around here."

Kathy snatched a notepad out of his hand and smirked. "Why not? Is the pressure too much for Chasey to handle?"

"Don't call me that," he said. "Honestly, it grates on my nerves."

I blinked a couple times so I could focus on the source of this voice. His name must have been Chase. Kathy said something about him earlier.

"Hey, I haven't seen you around here before. You must be the new farmer. I'm Chase. I'm also the cook for this bar. Not the waiter."

"Usually," Kathy added. "Just because you're awful at it."

It seemed like he was implying that cooking was a more dignified job than taking orders. I always heard that a man's character could be judged by how he treated the waiter. This guy, though... He was being rude to the wait staff, yet he was the wait staff. Surely there was some paradoxical phenomenon occurring here.

Chase stepped into a better lit area, and the paradoxes multiplied. His voice tried hard to stay toneless—not exactly what you'd hear on the morning radio—but I imagined it was a voice that worked well in those dark motel room scenes from the movies: sultry, desperate, with the breathy draw of mystery. There was something charged behind the apathy, though. Something that told me his voice would break when he laughed, or yelled.

His appearance was strangely delicate: wispy, tousled strawberry blond hair, tamed only in the front by three hairpins. The white button-down was nearly as unremarkable as his voice, but I liked it.

And his eyes. I went back and forth with myself, debating if they were violet or indigo. Violet seemed impossible, but it definitely wasn't a normal blue.

I flashed a grin, hoping he would smile back. "I'm Angela."

"You're seriously going to take over that farm?" he asked. He didn't smile.

"Yeah," I said. "It'll be fun."

Chase turned and went into the kitchen without another word.

Kathy gave me an apologetic look. "I know what you're thinking, and yes, he's great at parties, as long as he stays in the kitchen."

I walked away, laughing and shaking my head, and found a seat at one of the tables near the bar. The menu seemed to be written in a variety of languages. Bouillabaisse? Meuniere? Saury tomato stew? The stir fry looked safe. It was inexpensive, and at least I knew what it was.

As I was further contemplating the matter, the doors of the bar opened, letting in a gust of cool air and light. I squinted to see who had entered. A man with fiery red, spiked hair and massive muscles sauntered into the dining area and approached me.

"Hi! You must be the new farmer. I heard you arrived today." He shook my hand with a bone-crushing grip. "The name's Owen. I work at the blacksmith's."

"I'm Angela. Good to meet you." Once he let go, I discretely massaged my hand under the table.

"So, the farm, huh?"

I nodded, not sure what to say to that.

"Hey, I've got an old hammer, if you don't have one. You might need it. I'll bring it by soon," Owen said. "I'll have to introduce you to my little cousin, Chloe. She was pretty excited to hear someone new was moving in."

I agreed and Owen said goodbye before going to sit at another table. Not even a minute had passed and he already had a cocktail sloshing around in his hand. He was talking with an older gentleman and sparing a few glances at a girl in the corner who was performing a dance.

"Found anything you like yet?" Kathy was standing over me with her notepad in hand. "Chase cooks everything with all the love he has, so it tastes great. Unfortunately, there's no love for anything or anyone else left."

I looked toward the kitchen. What Kathy said seemed to be true; he wasn't scowling, at least. Then he turned his head and caught me staring at him. Of course. That was now two guys with which I had violated the unspoken rule of eye contact. Chase raised an inquisitive eyebrow at me as he placed a dish on the counter and rang a bell.

My eyes flickered back to Kathy, who was still waiting patiently. "I think I'll have the marinated fish."

"Good choice." She scribbled on her notepad and walked it back to Chase. I watched him read it and start preparing the dish. I wondered if he could gain insight into my personality just by what I ordered. Did people's personalities affect what food they ordered in restaurants? I would have to ask him sometime.

A steaming hot plate of marinated fish was set in front of me a short while later, interrupting my thoughts. It looked delicious. Chase kept glancing at me, probably wanting to see my reaction to his cooking. If I had known him better, I would have pretended to gag.

I lifted a forkful of fish into my mouth. The flavors immediately launched into a playful dance with each other on my tongue. Chase looked mildly uncomfortable as he watched me shovel in the food like I'd never eaten before. Kathy said that he cooked everything with all the love he had. That meant I was eating Chase's love… and it tasted amazing.

There was an abrupt clang as my fork hit the ceramic plate. I had eaten it all. After I placed my silverware on the napkin I had forgotten to use, I glanced toward the kitchen. Chase was nowhere to be seen.

I was startled by another plate being set down in front of me. Chase stood on the other side of the table. "What's this?" I asked dumbly.

"Shortcake. It's on the house. A gift from the staff of the Brass Bar for your first visit." He spoke the last part as if it had been poorly rehearsed, and he didn't even attempt to force a smile.

"You guys didn't have to do that! Thank you."

"Just eat it," he muttered in retreat to the kitchen.

The cake was as good, if not better, than the main course. It had the perfect balance of sweetness, and the texture was delightfully spongy and moist. After I finished, Kathy picked up the empty plates. I then paid her for the marinated fish and thanked her for the dessert.

"I thought it would be a nice welcoming present," she said, smiling. "Just be sure to stop by again soon."

"I will." I stood up, and upon reaching the door, I turned to wave goodbye to Chase, but he was wasn't looking my way.

The cool night air made my stroll back to my new house a leisurely one. Light was disappearing from the island, but much to my happiness I had yet to see any shady people. I figured the island was probably much safer than the city. Besides, I still had my pepper spray if anyone tried anything.

When I reached my farm house about fifteen minutes later, I discovered that my door did not have locks. Panic washed over me. Someone could break in. They would steal my things and kidnap me. It was these thoughts that prompted me to barricade the door with furniture.

I wiped my hands on my shorts and looked at my handiwork in satisfaction. The dining table, several chairs, and a bookcase were pushed up against the front door. I grabbed a few shirts and hung them where curtains were supposed to go over the window so that no one could look in.

Tomorrow, I decided while flopping onto my new bed, I would clean this place up and get started on farming life.

A/N: Thanks for clicking on Caught Clueless!

This story spans multiple genres and does not focus on one single pairing until much later. Genres include friendship, humor, romance, drama, slight mystery, and a smidge of adventure. If you are a fan of Chase, Gill, or Luke, then you might enjoy this story. :)

Updated November 23, 2015: Thank you for reading and showing interest in Caught Clueless. I've put countless hours of effort into this story so I tremendously appreciate your generous reviews!

A few notes about the story for future reading and those who are interested:

This story takes place in Animal Parade, despite that fact that I'm using Angela as my main character.

I am not going to address the bells/save the H. Goddess/restore the island aspect of the game in this story.

My number one goal for this story is that it's enjoyable and original. (Hey that's two goals! :P) I know it starts off being similar to a lot of "following the game plot" stories, but trust me, this isn't your typical love at first sight romance. There will be plenty of action/adventure in upcoming chapters, too. ;) Also, as you will see in upcoming chapters, there will be some game mixing with the characters and stuff. To avoid confusion, "the city" in my story is just a place that I made up. It's not an actual city like New York, nor is it a place in the Harvest Moon game world.

Disclaimer: I, violetfireflies, do not own Harvest Moon or any characters associated with it.