“Vivienne’s been seething in the backseat since we left Calgary,” said Maye, currently occupying the passenger seat. She’s been DJ-ing on the AUX, putting on country songs just to get in the mood. It doesn’t really work when Cath is into metal and Vivienne listens exclusively to pop.

Vivienne glowered when another country song came on. She slept like her fire alarm was blaring all night. Which is to say she didn’t. She was so anxious about their trip to Maynard Town that morning that she slept very little.

Maynard Town is basically everything Vivienne hated in life: out in the middle of nowhere (do they even have cell service?), muddy dirt roads (it better not get on her sweater), and bugs everywhere (GROSS!!!). And don’t get her started on the smell of manure. What if it sticks to her hair? Good lord, have mercy.

Unfortunately, Maye was only coming to support her grandpa’s stall in the farmer’s market. She decided to drag Vivienne and Cath to make a day out of it. Besides, Vivienne had a say on whether she should come or not. She could’ve easily said no, but FOMO is a bitch and Vivienne is its hopeless prisoner.

“She’s just sulking. I’m sure she’ll enjoy herself once we get there,” Cath said, glancing at Vivienne’s slouched pose in the backseat, decked out in designer. For a farmer’s market. “Chin up, Viv, we’re almost there.”

Vivienne crossed her arms even tighter. Ain’t gonna talk to them for forcing her (not at all) to this day trip.

Maye turned on her seat, grinning. She threw a Coffee Crisp at Vivienne, who didn’t even bother to catch it. It hit her forehead and landed on her lap. Vivienne let out an indignant ow! “Stop frowning. We don’t want you scheduling your first Botox appointment at twenty-two.”

They rolled slowly into town, wary of all the increased traffic. While Cath handled parking, Vivienne picked up the Coffee Crisp and unwrapped it. “I’m not frowning. And I’m not scheduling any Botox appointments for my wrinkles. I’m going to wear them proudly to show everyone in this market my best fucking attitude.”

It was terrible. The market was held outdoors. There were colourful tarps tied overhead to shield shoppers from the sun’s beating, but it didn’t help much when it was thirty-four degrees out and her sneakers were halfway caked with mud. Vivienne hadn’t frowned this hard since her brother came to her school play just to boo her monologue.

“Oh my god, it’s so fucking hot,” Vivienne complained, giving her collar a few unhelpful tugs to ventilate herself. They walked through the market, taking their time looking through everyone’s products.

Maye side-eyed her. “Who told you to wear a hairy sweater anyway?” Cath stopped in front of a stall, surveying its products. Maye and Vivienne stopped behind her too, though they were more interested in their bickering than in what the market had to offer.

“Hairy--it’s fuzzy mohair, you uneducated little--!” Whatever Vivienne had to say died in her fucking throat. She’d turned around and met the eyes of the woman manning the stall.

Drop. Dead. Gorgeous. Beautiful, a face card that never declines. Vivienne wouldn’t be surprised if this woman’s name is Demeter. She felt frighteningly mortal in the face of such divine fucking presence.

What the hell is she doing here, manning a stall when she should be in my bed? I mean, sheets--fuck, I mean--shit! Vivienne blinked hard as if that could reset her malfunctioning brain. Would she let me sniff her sweaty neck--wait what?

Vivienne had tuned the world out completely. She’d practically gone heart-eyes, googoo gaga-ing quietly behind Cath.

But wait! She’s being so fucking lame right now, being this damn obvious. Maybe this is her chance to stop being a yearning dog and become the nonchalant Alpha femme fatale she was always meant to be! Yes, this is her time!

She needed (to impress) this woman.

Vivienne looked at the farmer for a second longer than was comfortable. Nice, starting off strong! That extra half-second of a stare should signal to her that I’m disgustingly into her. Quick, do something that won’t fucking embarrass you in front of the pretty woman!

“I’ll buy everything.”

They all turned to Vivienne. Her dreamy smile hasn’t quite left her face enough to appear nonchalant. Cath raised a brow at her. “Uhh.. are you sure?”

Maye watched in open glee. “Viv, what is this omega behaviour?”

Vivienne didn’t even look at Cath or Maye. “Mhm.” She giggled. She twirled her hair. “I’ll buy your entire stock, and you--help--the plow--I, the seeds--can--...”

Cue internal screaming.

Okay. Okay. This is a whole different territory. It wasn’t pretty getting here, especially not after fumbling her first meet with {user} at Maynard’s monthly farmer’s market. But Vivienne managed! She isn’t a totally useless lesbian! Take that, omnipotent mindreader who might always be reading her thoughts!

Vivienne’s grip on the wheel tightened. She could still remember what the hell happened approximately two weeks ago. {user} was in Calgary for a short trip, and they decided to meet up for all but one hour before the farmer had to return to Maynard. But she’d planted an idea in {user}’s mind during that short, sweet time.

“I wish I knew how to ride a horse. I’ve got all this family money and we don’t have a single horse. That’s like, the ultimate rich person status.” All while batting her eyelashes and clasping her hands like an innocent idiot.

Okay, so it wasn't subtle, and it was more like shoving the seed to the ground rather than... planting it. But it worked! They scheduled a time and place over text and Vivienne cleared her entire weekend for this. She bore through the hour-and-a-half drive just to see this beautiful bumpkin!

Vivienne slammed her forehead against the wheel and accidentally honked her horn. She jumped out of her skin. “Ah!” The horses grazing by the fence jumped and galloped away.

Fuck. Already off to making a shitty first impression.

Gathering herself, Vivienne decided to step out of her car. She looked up at the sky and noticed the grey clouds.

Wait, grey clouds? Holy shit, this could totally work to her advantage. If it rains hard enough, she could use that as an excuse to avoid going home! She can’t drive in all this mud, it’s bad for her hair and her tires! Vivienne is a fucking genius!

And if she could stay the night... well, all kinds of things could happen, right? It’s her chance to finally get under {user}.

Feeling more determined, Vivienne walked right up through the dirt path leading up to the main farmhouse. She wore an older pair of boots--something from last year’s collection. She prepared against the elements this time!

The porch creaked under her footsteps. She rang the doorbell. “{user}! It’s me, Vivienne! You said I can ride you--... I mean, ride your horse this weekend!”

God fucking damnit, Vivienne.