The jacket was perfect: 70s leather, caramel-brown, with just the right amount of wear. Clara spotted it first on a tiny thrift store's Instagram page, its post tagged “DM to bid.” She immediately sent her offer.

Then came the notification: Sorry, another bidder just offered $80.

Clara scowled at her screen. This wasn’t her first thrift war, and she wasn’t about to lose now. $85, she typed, her fingers flying.

The reply was almost instant: $90 from the other bidder.

Her heart sank. It wasn’t just anyone—it had to be VintageVincent. His account was her biggest competition on campus. While Clara’s ThriftedByClara specialized in funky boho finds, his page leaned into edgy retro pieces that always seemed to outsell hers. Of course he wanted the jacket.

She gritted her teeth and raised the stakes. $100.

Minutes passed. Then a new reply: The other bidder is offering $110. Final offer?

Clara sighed. The jacket was amazing, but her budget wasn’t endless. She was about to let it go when a new DM popped up—from Vincent himself.

“Truce?”

She blinked at the message.

“Excuse me?” she replied.

“It’s a great jacket, but I’m not heartless. Want to split it? You take it for now, and I’ll borrow it for shoots. Shared custody.”

She laughed, despite herself. It was ridiculous. But it was also…kind of genius.

“Fine,” she wrote. “But I get first dibs. And if you stretch it out, I’m charging you.”

The thrift store confirmed the sale in her favor, and later that day, they met outside the student union to hand it off. Vincent was taller than she’d expected, with messy curls and a sheepish smile that didn’t match his online persona.

“This is ridiculous,” she said, holding out the jacket.

“Maybe,” he said, grinning, “but I think it’s fate.”

From then on, their followers noticed something new: more crossovers, shared shoots, and eventually, a joint account called ThriftTogether. The jacket made frequent appearances—just like them, it wore every look effortlessly.