Chapter 3: Confessions at Midnight
I described the airport scene in way too much detail, probably embarrassing myself, but Harper just listened, smiling. He teased me about my hopeless crush, but in the kindest way. I could tell he was rooting for me.
He told me about his ten-year unrequited crush on my brother.
Ten years. That kind of devotion blew my mind. Harper’s eyes softened as he talked about Dylan—my brother, the one I’d always thought was so aloof. Harper described the way Dylan painted, the way he laughed at his own jokes. It was sweet, and a little heartbreaking.
Turns out, Harper had been to my hometown, Willow Creek, for the art entrance exam, and he and my brother were classmates at the same studio. Unfortunately, my brother was a year ahead and they’d never even spoken.
Small-town Ohio is the kind of place where everyone knows everyone, but somehow, Harper and Dylan had always just missed each other. Harper showed me an old yearbook photo, and I laughed at how awkward my brother looked back then. It was a strange, wonderful coincidence.
When he finished, Harper looked up and saw me crying.
I hadn’t even realized I was tearing up until Harper handed me a tissue. He looked so concerned, like he was afraid he’d said something wrong.
He panicked:
"Hey, Autumn, don’t cry! I haven’t even cried yet…"
He tried to make me laugh, and it worked. I wiped my eyes, sniffling, feeling lighter than I had in months.
"Harper! You’re too pitiful. Don’t worry, from what I’ve seen, my brother hasn’t had a girlfriend in years. Let me make a bold prediction—my brother! I’ll help you get him!"
I said it with all the confidence of someone who’d just discovered a new purpose in life. Harper looked at me like I was a little bit crazy, but also like he believed me.
Before Harper could react, I hugged him.
It was spontaneous, but it felt right. Harper stiffened for a second, then hugged me back, squeezing so tight I almost couldn’t breathe. We laughed, both of us a little teary-eyed.
He froze, then hugged me back:
"Autumn! Don’t worry, I don’t know if my sister swings that way, but if she does, I’ll tie her up and bring her to your house if I have to!"
We both cracked up, the tension completely gone. In that moment, we were more than ship partners—we were co-conspirators, allies in the weirdest love stories ever.
Just like that, after one night, Harper and I became really close.
It was the kind of friendship that felt like fate. We made a pact—help each other out, no matter what. From then on, we were a team, on and off camera.
So much so that the next day, when the director saw us holding hands, he gave us a knowing smile.
We hadn’t even realized we were still holding hands. The director winked at us, clearly convinced the ship was real. Harper and I just grinned, letting everyone believe what they wanted.
We quickly let go. At that moment, Harper’s phone lit up:
[The other party has accepted your friend request. You can now start chatting.]
Harper’s face lit up like Christmas. He shoved his phone in my face, eyes wide with excitement.
Harper grabbed my hand in excitement:
"Autumn, he accepted!"
He was practically bouncing in his seat. I laughed, squeezing his hand to calm him down.
I raised an eyebrow and patted his hand to calm him down:
"Don’t get too excited. Here’s more good news: My brother happens to be in River City for business today. After we finish recording, he can pick us up and take us home."
I tried to sound casual, but inside I was just as giddy as Harper. It felt like everything was finally falling into place.
Hearing that, Harper squeezed my arm even tighter.
He was so excited he could barely speak, but I looked at my own empty phone and felt a little empty inside.
I watched him practically vibrate with happiness, and for a second, I wished Morgan would accept my request, too. I tried not to let it show, but it stung a little.
Since I already had a mic pinned to my clothes, I leaned close to Harper’s ear and whispered:
"Harper, has your sister woken up yet? She still hasn’t accepted my friend request. Does she not add strangers?"
I tried to sound nonchalant, but my voice cracked at the end. Harper just grinned, shaking his head.
Harper waved his hand and explained that Morgan had a business dinner yesterday, was out late, and was probably catching up on sleep.
"She’s like a bear after a long week," he said, rolling his eyes affectionately. "Give her a few hours—she’ll get to it."
I nodded, and the corners of my mouth lifted uncontrollably—caught by the live camera right in front of the bedroom.
The camera zoomed in just as I smiled. I tried to hide it, but it was too late. The fans caught everything, and the chat exploded.
The ship fans, who’d been waiting for a while, started spamming the chat:
[That involuntary smile—what did Harper say to Autumn? I want to hear it too!]
[Who still says our “Autumn Harvest” is fake? The show even put them in the same room. It’s official now!]
[Did no one notice they left holding hands just now?]
[Noticed! I never shipped ships before, but I’m in now! Go, “Autumn Harvest”!]
The comments were relentless. I glanced at Harper, and he just shrugged, like, “What can you do?”
Seeing that, Harper and I quickly put some distance between us.
We both scooted to opposite ends of the couch, trying to look casual. I shot Harper a look, and he instantly got it. We were in sync, like always.
Now that we were "siblings," we couldn’t let the ship fans keep going wild.
We made an unspoken agreement—no more hand-holding, no more lingering glances. It was time to let the fans speculate while we focused on our real missions.
I shot Harper a look, and he instantly got it.
He winked, and I rolled my eyes. We both knew how to play the game.
That day, neither of us interacted again.
We kept our distance, barely exchanging a word. It was weirdly comforting, knowing we were both on the same page.
Until the recording ended, and Harper and I were waiting by the curb for our ride.
The sun was setting, painting the city in gold. We stood side by side, checking our phones, pretending not to be nervous. The air was thick with anticipation.
A Porsche pulled up in front of us. I glanced at it and kept texting my brother.
The car gleamed under the streetlights, windows tinted, engine purring. I barely looked up, too busy typing out directions for Dylan.
But halfway through my message, I heard Harper shout:
"Sis, why are you here? Didn’t you say you were staying home today?"
His voice cracked with surprise. I looked up, and there she was—Morgan Lane, framed by the open window. She looked even more stunning than I remembered, her hair loose around her shoulders, eyes fixed on me.
Hearing him, I looked up—and locked eyes with Morgan Lane through the open car window.
For a second, time stopped. My heart did a little somersault, and I felt my cheeks go hot. I tried to play it cool, but I knew I was blushing like crazy.
The moment our eyes met, my heart skipped a beat, just like at the airport two years ago.