Harper stared at her phone, rereading the reply for the third time.

“Hi, Harper! Wow, I wasn’t expecting this, but I’d love to collaborate! I’m usually working from home at my little studio on Merryweather Lane—does that work for you? Just let me know when!”

The cheerful tone practically leapt off the screen. Harper could almost hear Ivy’s bright, lilting voice in her head.

“Merryweather Lane,” Harper muttered to herself, rolling the name around in her mouth like a piece of candy. It sounded exactly like the kind of place you’d expect a flower-crown-wearing artist to live.

She glanced at her calendar. There were a dozen things she should be doing—sponsored posts, Q&A videos, and brainstorming for next week’s trending challenges. But something about Ivy’s message made her pause.

“Screw it,” Harper thought, shooting off a quick reply.

The next day, Harper’s car rumbled down a winding road lined with towering trees. The city’s buzz faded into the distance, replaced by the chirping of birds and the occasional crunch of gravel under her tyres. She checked the directions again.

Harper’s Manager, Kim, was sitting in the passenger seat, replying to emails on her phone.

“I mean, for sure, this is definitely something new, but are you sure you want to collaborate with someone who is your exact opposite in every way?” Kim asked, raising an eyebrow at the picturesque landscape that they had driven into. 

“Turn left at the big oak tree,” Harper read aloud, raising an eyebrow at Kim’s question. “Well, you said I needed to shake things up, so why not escape into a fairy tale?”

The car crept along the path until she spotted it: a quaint little cottage nestled in a meadow of wildflowers. Ivy was waiting outside, her wavy black hair catching the sunlight, turning a slightly reddish hue. She wore a loose dress in soft greens and yellows, like she’d stepped straight out of a Jane Austen novel, and her bare feet brushed the grass as she waved enthusiastically. Her tawny brown skin looked sun-kissed and warm, making Harper wonder what it would be like to just fold into her…Harper shook her head and focused on parking her car.

“Well at least she’s a beauty, that will go well with the viewers” Kim commented, taking in Ivy’s buxom figure with a keen eye. 

“Shut up, don’t be a pervert in front of my fellow content creator” Harper growled, wondering why Kim’s comment had made her feel a little….jealous. 

Harper stepped out of her car, trying to ignore the sudden awareness of her leather jacket and boots in this storybook setting. Kim slammed the door and waved, walking over to Ivy with an outstretched hand and her usual business-only smile. 

Ivy and Kim shook hands as Harper strolled over slower, taking her time to look around and observe the environment she was in, which was pretty pleasant, like a sort of fairytale getaway of sorts. 

“Harper, hi!” Ivy greeted, bounding forward. Her energy was as warm as her messages, and Harper couldn’t help but smile despite herself.

“Hey,” Harper replied, sliding her hands into her jacket pockets. “So, this is where the magic happens?” She gestured toward the cottage, its windows adorned with flower boxes spilling over with colourful blooms.

Ivy beamed. “Pretty much! I hope you don’t mind—it’s a bit more... rustic than what you’re probably used to.”

“Rustic is fine,” Harper said, her smirk softening. “As long as you’re not planning to make me churn butter or something.”

Ivy laughed, the sound light and unguarded. “Not unless you want to! Come on, I’ll show you around.”

Kim started recording Harper and Ivy as they chatted, and unbeknownst to them, Harper’s Manager's eyes began to sparkle as she recorded them, suddenly seeing a potential to make both these content creators go viral overnight. 

Inside, the cottage smelled of lavender and freshly baked bread. The walls were lined with shelves holding books, jars of herbs, and tiny potted plants. A small art studio took up the far corner, where sunlight spilt onto a table cluttered with paints, brushes, and half-finished canvases.

Harper took it all in, feeling uncharacteristically out of her element. Ivy caught her staring and tilted her head, a playful grin tugging at her lips.

“Not what you expected?”

Harper shrugged, fighting back the urge to fidget. “It’s... cozy. And quiet. Probably the exact opposite of my world.”

“Well,” Ivy said, moving toward the art table and picking up a small bundle of freshly cut lavender from her garden, “maybe that’s why we’ll work well together. Opposites attract, right?”

Something in the way Ivy said it—so casual, so easy—made Harper’s heart stutter for half a second. She shoved the feeling aside, flashing her usual grin.

“Guess we’ll find out.”