Kim, Harper’s manager, leaned back in her ergonomic chair, her grin widening as she watched the freshly edited video for the fifth time. She’d instructed the editing team to take the casual footage of Harper and Ivy wandering through the lavender garden and craft it into something... magnetic. A subtle glance here, a soft smile there, all perfectly timed to the beat of a trending song. The result? The two looked like they were teetering on the edge of something undeniably romantic.

The contrast was striking—Harper, tall and angular in her dark, edgy clothes, walking beside Ivy, all soft curves in her pastel greens and yellows. The golden light of the garden seemed to frame them like a dream sequence. It was cinematic. It was art. It was exactly the kind of content that would set the internet ablaze.

Kim laughed gleefully as she clicked “post.” Within minutes, the notifications began pouring in. The follower count ticked upward with dizzying speed, each new comment and like sending Kim’s mood soaring.

“Oh, this is too good,” Kim murmured, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction as she checked Ivy’s account. Sure enough, @CottageDriedLavender was blowing up, too, and was tagged endlessly in the comments. “Who’s the flower girl?” “This aesthetic is EVERYTHING.” “I ship it.”

Kim couldn’t have planned it better. She opened a new document on her computer, drafting a follow-up contract for Ivy with relish. If the internet wanted more of Harper and Ivy, she’d make sure they got it. And with this kind of response, Harper wouldn’t be able to resist.

Meanwhile, Harper sat in her sleek, modern apartment, her guitar resting across her lap. She strummed a few chords before her phone buzzed again... and again. Finally, with a groan, she set the guitar aside and picked up her phone. Her notifications were completely out of control—texts, tags, comments. For a moment, she thought something terrible had happened.

“What the hell…” she muttered, scrolling through the chaos.

Then she saw it. The video. The footage she’d shot with Ivy now transformed into a montage of soft, longing gazes and almost-touching hands. Harper’s jaw tightened as she watched the final frame: the two of them standing in the garden, surrounded by lavender, their contrasting styles blending into something oddly beautiful.

Her phone nearly slipped from her hand as she clicked out of the app and dialled Kim. The line barely rang once before Kim picked up, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

“Kim, what the hell did you do?” Harper snapped, pacing across her living room.

“Oh, relax,” Kim said breezily. Harper could practically hear her manager rolling her eyes. “I just had the team polish things up a bit. You look great, by the way.”

“Polish things up? Kim, we look like we’re in love!” Harper’s voice rose as she gestured wildly, even though no one was there to see it.

Kim smirked, leaning back in her chair. “And?”

Harper groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “And now the internet thinks we’re dating. The comments are insane!”

“Well, can you blame them?” Kim teased, her tone infuriatingly casual. “You and Ivy do look good together.”

“That’s not the point,” Harper snapped, stopping in her tracks.

“Oh, but it is,” Kim countered, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Your followers are through the roof, Harper. You’re about to hit a million. And when you do, you know what that means, right?”

Harper sighed, already dreading the answer. “What?”

Kim’s grin was audible through the phone. “You bring Ivy in on the next phase. A few more videos, maybe a live Q&A. Your audience will eat it up. Trust me, this is big.”

Harper groaned, flopping onto her couch and covering her face with her arm. “Fine,” she muttered. “But you’re the one breaking it to Ivy.”

“Oh, no,” Kim said, her tone saccharine sweet. “That’s all you, champ.”

Harper hung up without another word, tossing her phone onto the coffee table and staring at the ceiling. She couldn’t believe she was about to hustle Ivy into this madness. But as much as she hated to admit it, Kim was right. The success was undeniable.