***

The next few hours were a blur of spectacle. Harper played along for the cameras, her charm on full display as Avery giggled and whispered things meant to look private but were far from it. 

In the meantime, Ivy busied herself in her kitchen, where there were no cameras today, as everyone else had already planted themselves in her studio. Ivy tried to focus on making some shepherd's pie, reminding herself that this was Harper’s personal life, not hers.

When lunch rolled around, Ivy slipped away. She grabbed her foraging basket and entered the woods surrounding the cottage, craving solitude and the grounding comfort of nature. She wasn’t upset, she told herself—just tired.

The familiar set up of the picnic by the stream had been re-created. As Harper and Avery shared a picture-perfect picnic in the clearing, Harper’s eyes kept a keen eye on the surrounding woods, wondering what had happened to Ivy, and when she could have a word with her. 

The table before Harper and Avery was laid with artfully arranged charcuterie and champagne flutes sparkling in the sun. Laughter rippled through the air; however, Harper was barely able to focus. The entire set-up came across as so staged that it felt like an echo of something real.

Eventually, Avery’s segment wrapped, and she bid Harper affectionately, camera-ready goodbye. “Call me later, darling,” she cooed, air-kissing both cheeks. Then, with a subtle nod, her personal crew moved in as if on cue and fell in step with Avery, all saying that they wanted to take a walk to admire the property while the crew packed things up and Harper begrudgingly went in search of Kim to have a word with her. 

***

While all this was happening, Avery found Ivy near a grove of wildflowers, crouched low as she picked elderberries. The moment Ivy noticed her, she straightened, basket in hand, and managed a polite smile. “Oh, hi. Can I help you?”

Avery’s answering smile was all teeth. “Oh, you’ve helped enough already.”

Confused, Ivy blinked. “I’m sorry?”

Avery stepped closer, the sharp scent of her expensive perfume cutting through the earthy air. “I think you’ve gotten a little too comfortable with Harper,” she said, her tone saccharine and venomous all at once. “Let me make this simple: back off,” she said, shoving Ivy so that she fell back into the grass with an oomph!

“I—I don’t understand,” Ivy stammered, looking up at her, the foraged mushrooms scattered all over the forest floor. 

Avery laughed, a cold, mirthless sound. “You’re cute. But let’s be honest—everything you have now? It’s because of Harper. Without her, you’d still be painting in obscurity. So don’t get any ideas about monopolizing her time.”

The words hit Ivy like a slap. “I’m not… I wouldn’t—”

“Good,” Avery interrupted, stepping closer. “People like Harper don’t have time for people like you. You’d only drag her down with your domesticated lifestyle, so don’t get any ideas; you and her are not even in the same league.”

Avery knelt down on one knee and grabbed Ivy by the collar, pulling her up so they were face to face, only a hair’s breadth away. “Don’t test me because if you do, I’ll make sure you regret it. Your career, your reputation, your little cottage dream—it’ll all crumble. And you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

Ivy’s throat tightened as tears rose, spilling over before she could stop them. Avery’s lip curled in satisfaction.

“Aw, don’t cry,” Avery said, feigning sympathy. “It’s just business, darling. Consider this a friendly warning from the real girlfriend to the fake girlfriend.” She said, releasing Ivy so that she fell back onto the ground and standing up, brushing leaves and dirt off her stocking. Avery turned on her heels, leaving Ivy alone, trembling and guilt-stricken, in the woods.

As Avery disappeared, Ivy bowed her head, her basket forgotten beside her. The weight of the threat—and the sudden, crushing doubt about her place in Harper’s world—left her paralyzed, tears flowing unchecked.

As Ivy looked up, she noticed someone moving quickly in the trees. They looked like they had a phone in hand, pointed right at her. Ivy scrambled to her feet, but the person was gone before she could confront them, leaving a chill down her spine. She thought that someone had seen her like that in front of Avery. 

From a distance, the sound of laughter and the chatter of the crew and Avery drifted back towards Ivy, a cruel reminder of the glittering world Avery belonged to—and the fragile one Ivy felt slipping through her fingers.