Demeter Ceres was a 25-year-old woman who grew up in the suburbs outside Welbron city the capital of West Leaf. Her family loved to go on vacations in the countryside. As a girl, she marveled at the giant watermelons and rolling fields of golden wheat.

When she turned twelve, her parents took her to the Grand Harvest festival that took place every five years. Farmers from all over the world would travel to West Leaf to gain the title of farming lord. The winner would earn prestige and fame getting interviewed by reporters. Also, such lords would get a chance to raise an ancient godseed. Every godseed grew differently making the harvest a rare and extravagant food. Just selling one fruit or leaf from such plants would garner you a fortune.

Demeter's twelve-year-old self was blown away by the stalls of people selling crops from all over the world. The unique cooking techniques made her mouth water and her stomach grumble. But the thing she solidified in her mind forever was the crowning of the Farming Lord. The youngest Farming Lord ever to be crowned a 22-year-old woman. When she had the vine crown placed on her head and held up her godseed, she seemed to glow with otherworldly beauty.

Since then she dreamed of becoming a farmer. She would tell everyone who would listen about how she was going to become the Farming Lord when she grew up. With youthful vigor, her eyes would fill with stars as she imagined the exciting future she'd live.

How then did she become a boring office worker? She sighs as she munches her sandwich during her short state-mandated lunch break. If she was going to work 80 hour weeks shouldn't she be striving for her dream? Dreams weren't things people typically reach. Everyone has some goal in their youth that they throw away to reality. It was impossible for her to buy a suitable plot of land with her savings even now.

"What's wrong Demeter?" Her childhood friend asks as she checks her make up. Olive was a blacked hair beauty with long legs and a butt that made a heart shape in anything she wore. Her dream of marrying a rich man and living the easy life hasn't been met either.

"Why are we working so hard for this place selling knickknacks? Shouldn't we be doing more with our youth?" Demeter lamented as she slumped down as her brown hair cascades around her. Demeter was typically described as a woman with an average body and a cute face. Her green eyes would sparkle when she had fun and glaze over when she was bored. Nowadays the latter seemed to take hold of her life.

Olive rolls her eyes and points at Demeter with her lipstick. "This is about farming again, isn't it? Look we're not young anymore. You didn't even go to school for agriculture," she says annoyed at having this conversation again.

"Yeah but you know that owning land is rough nowadays and agriculture is a niche competitive career. I don't want to work as a hand on someone else's farm," Demeter pouted.

"Yeah, you gave up on that dream and took accounting," Olive reminds her old friend. "If you take off a few buttons and trim your skirt you might have time to catch an up and comers eyes," she continued to counsel.

"It's not fair though. There isn't an accounting lord or anything. Where's the mystique and adventure?" Demeter replied while giving an energetic fist to the sky. She decided to ignore her friend's relationship advice.

"Bah, how could you become accounting lord? You barely managed to graduate as it is. It's not like you even garden or anything. Do you even like growing plants?" Olive asks casually as she makes kiss faces into a mirror.

"My apartment doesn't have amenities like that."

"Your parents own a house though. Go make a garden there."

"That's a two-hour drive. Also, gardening is totally different than farming," Demeter groans.

Olive gets up to return to work and says, "See you have no drive anyways it'd be better if you just forget about living an exciting life and settle down."

"But," Demeter yelped as she reaches out towards her friend before collapsing in defeat bonking her head on the table.

The day drags on into overtime once again. Demeter finally drags her exhausted butt home. As she flops on to her bed, she notices the old answering machine blinking. The only people who ever call her home phone are telemarketers and her parents. Well, it can wait she thinks as her eyes collapse. She falls asleep still in her work clothes her legs dangle off the bed at a right angle.