October passed in a blur.

Every day was the same. Lemon water. Six-kilometre run. Yoga. Shower. Cleanse, moisturize, sunscreen. Classes on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. Sophia posted twice a day, and she switched up the content based on what was performing well: sunrises over cornfields, organic farm-to-table vegetables, jean overalls and cowboy boots...

Her following grew. Thousands of likes and comments flooded in, praising her new lifestyle. "You look so well-rested," one person wrote. "So happy to see you taking care of yourself. You're glowing!"

She spotted a few snide comments about moving to the country for easier access to horse tranquilizers, but overall, the response was positive.

In early November, Sophia posted her first photo of Finn. He was leaning against the fence, one arm propped up on a wooden post. Horses grazed in the background. A cowboy hat shadowed most of his face, and he was chewing mint gum.

"For the record," Finn said, "you'd never actually lean against a barbed wire fence." He adjusted his hat. "Horribly uncomfortable, and most of them are electrified. What if I'm encouraging people to become human barbecue?"

She rolled her eyes. "Can you smile less?"

"Grilled alive," Finn said, with relish. "Coq-Au-Man."

"If that's why you're smiling," Sophia said, "then you're even more sadistic than I thought." She gestured to his foot. "Move your boot higher."

Finn complied. "I still don't get it."

"What?"

"Your followers' obsession with you."

Sophia looked up from her phone to frown. "It's because I'm great." Finn arched an eyebrow, and she sighed. "Fine. It's because I'm a story."

"No," Finn said slowly. "You're a person."

"Not to most people," Sophia said. "I'm a storyline. People have been watching me for years." She crouched down, tilting the camera angle upwards. "They saw me get braces, and then they saw my first heartbreak. They know what I like to wear. They know that I'm obsessed with Disney quotes, and that I hate pickles on sandwiches."

"It must bother you."

"Not really." Sophia shrugged. "I did it to myself. Anyways, this is just the latest chapter in my storyline; they're curious how it's going to play out." She rose, moving to adjust his collar. "More smile this time, Hoag."

Finn's expression didn't change. "They don't even know you."

"They feel like they do."

"Do they really care that much?"

Sophia paused, her phone still raised. Most of Finn's face was in shadow, but she could hear the skepticism in his voice. She sighed. She scrolled through their photoshoot, stopping at a picture where Finn looked particularly handsome — all rumpled blond hair and faded blue jeans — then selected it.

Finn drew closer. "What are you doing?"

"Wait for it," she said.

Sophia opened the picture on Instagram. Think I might keep him, she wrote, adding a little heart symbol for good measure. Then she clicked "upload."

The response was immediate.

Oh my GOD, who is he??

Wait, did you and Kit break up?!

IS THAT FINN HOAG!!

Finn leaned over her shoulder, his expression becoming more and more incredulous as he drank in the comments. Sophia smirked.

"Believe me now?"

"Holy shit," Finn said. "How did they find me?" He leaned closer, resting his chin on her shoulder. "And why didn't you warn me that I need a shave?"

"You might want to cut your hair, too."

Finn shot her a look. "No one is touching my hair." His minty breath was warm against her skin, and he pressed even closer, squinting at the screen. "Oh, look; this girl thinks I'm way out of your league."

"She does not!"

"I have it in writing."

"Well, there's no accounting for taste," Sophia said, lowering the phone. "I'm sure this will be all over gossip blogs by tomorrow."

He shrugged. "You wanted positive press, right?"

Sophia turned, and then immediately realized her mistake; their faces were inches apart. Her stomach gave an odd lurching sensation. She could count every freckle on Finn's nose, see the bits of white-blond in his hair where the sun had bleached it. He smelled of hay and warm earth and lemon soap.

"Yes," Sophia said, "but I—"

Her phone rang.

She jumped. Finn took a step back, looking at the phone warily, as if it was a small, feral rodent that was liable to bite at any second.

"Do you need to take that?" he asked.

Sophia glanced at the screen, and then did a double take. Callie, from Estrella. Shit. Her mouth went dry. "Yeah," she said. "One second."

She walked a safe distance away, and then hit the green button.

"Hello?"

"Sophia." Callie's voice was indecipherable. Shoes slapped on a surface; she must have been walking on a treadmill again. "How are things with you?"

"Fine, thanks."

"Good, good," Callie said. "Listen, I've just seen your latest post. The gorgeous cowboy against the fence with the cows?"

"Horses," Sophia said automatically. "Callie, I can explain—"

"It's brilliant," Callie cut in.

Relief filled her. "It is?"

"Absolutely inspired, darling. You've gained hundreds of followers from that post alone, and all the comments are positive. This is the kind of content we want from you, Sophia. Candid. Unfiltered. Family-oriented."

"Right."

"Post more of your new boyfriend. People love him."

Sophia's stomach plunged. She toed a piece of withering grass. Did she lie about dating Finn? Claim that he really was her boyfriend? But, no; Callie was a bloodhound for gossip, and a human lie detector for bullshit. She'd see through her in a second.

"Here's the thing," Sophia said slowly. "We're not actually dating; Finn's just a friend that's helping me out."

"Darling," Callie said, "I don't care if he's a porcupine that tap dances. If he's selling our products, then I adore him." The shoe-slapping increased. "Do you think he'd consider posing with our masculine cologne version of Estrella in the spring?"

Not a chance. "I can ask."

"Good," Callie said. "Keep pushing, Sophia. We've got the launch at Christmas, and I need to see you regain your following before then. We can't have the face of Estrella tainted by a ketamine scandal. I'm sure you understand."

"I'll try."

"Try harder." Her tone was firm. "Do something big."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," Callie said. "Surprise me."

The line went dead.

Sophia pocketed the phone, wandering back towards the fence. Callie was right; the reaction to her little jaunt in the country had been overwhelmingly positive. But it wasn't enough. Not nearly. She couldn't afford to be a one-trick pony; she had to level up.

An idea sparked.

"Hoag," Sophia said. "When you do that horse competition thing—"

"Please," Finn said, looking pained, "don't call it that."

"And you flail around on top of a horse—"

"Bareback riding." He picked up a stick, scraping mud off his cowboy boot. "That's the name, Toronto."

"Right. Well, when you're doing your riding thing—"

Finn held the stick aloft. "Is there a point to this?"

"Can people watch?"

Finn set the stick down. He looked about as excited as if Sophia had suggested finding the nearest electric fence and frying themselves on it. "Oh, no," he said, shaking his head. "Absolutely not."

"But I—"

"You'll distract me," Finn said firmly. "I'll be too busy thinking about how you're embarrassing me to concentrate on the horse."

"So there is an event coming up," Sophia said, seizing her phone.

"You wouldn't like it."

"You don't know that."

"Anyways," Finn said, "it's not open to the public."

"Yes, it is." Sophia held up her phone, feeling just a touch smug. "In fact, the Canadian Rodeo Finals draws a crowd of 43,000 people, according to Google."

Finn groaned. "You're not invited."

"You owe me," Sophia reminded him. "For doing Gemma's photo shoot." It was a low blow, and she knew it, but she was also desperate. "Please, Hoag. All I need is one picture of us together. Preferably with us both in cowboy hats."

Finn looked at her for a long moment. Then he sighed.

"Fine," he said. "But I have conditions."

"Oh?"

"One condition," Finn amended. "I'm teaching you about bareback riding first. And you're going to try it."