Chapter Text
PRESENT. (2040)
Aaron Warner Doesn’t Get Jealous. (Or that’s the lie he keep telling at himself for the past few years)
He’s not really someone who got jealous, I mean, what would a man like him be jealous of?
Jealousy, in Warner’s meticulous worldview, was an emotion akin to unruly chaos. It required an admission of vulnerability, an acknowledgment that something, or in this case, someone, held the power to disrupt the carefully constructed equilibrium of his life. It was a sentiment he considered beneath him, beneath the carefully honed image of composure he projected to the world.
He was Aaron Warner, unflinching and composed. Jealousy required acknowledging vulnerabilities that he refused to expose. He has always prided himself on his unyielding control, the ironclad grip he maintained on every aspect of his life.
Yet, there were moments, like the one he was currently experiencing, that threatened his carefully constructed facade.
The party was in full swing, the atmosphere vibrant and charged. Laughter and music filled the air, and Warner stood amidst the throng of people, a glass of whiskey in hand. As he stood in the corner of the room, glaring daggers at the scene of you and kenji dancing in the middle of the dance floor, Warner could not deny the storm of emotions brewing within him.
He took a sip of his whiskey, his refined taste for the finer things momentarily overshadowed by the fire igniting in his chest. He had been observing the situation with detachment, or so he had tried to convince himself.
Yet, each chuckle that escaped your lips, every shy smile directed at that interloper, seemed to slice through his veneer of indifference like a dagger. Warner’s green eyes narrowed as he watched you, dissecting every nuance of the encounter. He saw the way your hair fell just so across your shoulders, the way your eyes sparkled with genuine amusement. And then, there was that touch – innocent, yes, but it still sent tendrils of anger curling around his heart, grip tightening around the glass cup.
“You alright there, Warner?” A voice chimed in, interrupting his train of thoughts. It was Nazeera, her observant eyes noticing the situation.
“Perfectly,” he replied curtly, his gaze still fixed on you.
Nazeera followed his line of sight and smirked. “Ah, I see. Jealousy does not suit you, Warner.”
Warner’s jaw clenched. “I am not jealous.”
Nazeera raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Jealousy requires emotions, which you find terribly unrefined. But as you stand here, glaring at the sight of poor y/n and kenji who’s unwittingly— or should I say unwillingly caught your ire, I’d say you are feeling downright murderous.”
Warner’s irritation flared. “I assure you, I’m simply observing. Run along.”
Nazeera chuckled knowingly. “Right, observing with the intensity of a hawk about to swoop down on its prey.”
Warner’s eyes flickered to her, irritation now can be seen at his face “You are enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Immensely” she replied, her grin widening. “But don’t fret, Warner. Jealousy happens to the best of us, even those who pride themselves on being unemotional”
Aaron only huffs in response. He took another sip of his whiskey, his gaze drifting back to you. Nazeera only watches him with amusement.
“They were supposed to be broken up,” he said, breaking the silence and now looki— no, glaring fire and daggers at Kenji.
“And why do you care?” Juliette Ferrars appeared, arms linked in with none other than Adam Kent who is smirking, clearly enjoying the scene unfolding in his eyes.
Nazeera smiled mischievously. “Yes, Warner, why do you care?” Aaron rolled his eyes taking a long gulp of his whiskey.
Why did he care?
Aaron Warner really had nothing against your past lovers—He simply believed that they all don’t deserve you and that he thought that he would fit in so much better in their place.
He could be a better boyfriend than all of them.
You see, You had what Aaron Warner liked to call 7 Evil Exes, except some of them were not really evil and some of them were not really exes. but that is what he likes to call them and a secret he clung to in the privacy of his mind.
Nazeera Ibrahim .
New Year’s Day Party, Circa 2035
It was New Year’s Day, Aaron’s father had forced him again to come to a party with his business partners to celebrate.
As he entered the ballroom where the teenagers who were also dragged along by their parents were hanging out, Warner heard you and nazeera's loud, booming, and obnoxious laugh.
Recently, there hadn’t been a time when Aaron was with Nazeera that you weren’t accompanying them. And perhaps, if Aaron did not have such a terrible time making friends, he might not have ended up spending as much time hanging along with Nazeera Ibrahim.
The opulent ballroom was ablaze with twinkling chandeliers and a sea of elegantly dressed individuals. It was the kind of event that drew the city’s elite, where the power plays of the wealthy and influential were disguised behind smiles and clinking glasses.
Aaron Warner, however, had always found such gatherings a tiresome spectacle. Tonight was no different.
“Double A,” a voice chimed in, it was none other than Kenji Kishimoto. Warner hated that nickname and most especially kishimoto. “Upset that your rival is not giving you any attention?” He teased. “Go away.” Warner replied as he took a drink to his wine.
“In case you haven't noticed, this is a party – a gathering designed for enjoyment, y’know.” Warner only rolled his eyes in response , “I’m aware. Get out.”
“What’s with the face, sour patch? It’s New Year’s Eve, are you really starting your year with a brooding face? How boring”
“ Go. Away. ” He warned. Kenji only huffs in response as he leaves.
“Oh look who we have here,” you suddenly said behind Warner. “What are you doing here at the corner?” You stated. “None of your business.” He replied, bored.
“You are no fun, Aaron .” Oh God. “Fun might not be my forte then.” Warner said, sarcasm visible to his voice.
“You chat like a full-on adult – did you clock that?” You mumbled. Clearly not sober, you speaking to him and being ‘nice’ kinda give it away.
“Why aren’t you out there having a blast with us?” you prodded Warner’s arm. ”Why? You all seem to be enjoying yourselves just fine. Nazeera is,” Aaron murmured to himself.
“You do realize that we consider you a friend too, right? It is not just Nazeera.”
“When was the last time I spent time with you without Nazeera around?” Warner said, harshly. “I am not your friend, l/n.” He continued. “Oh, definitely not. But you are the biggest asshole I know.” You said teasingly as you laughed.
God. He kinda hates you.
“ Oh, why thank you” Warner replied as he gave you a mocking smile. You only roll your eyes in response and leave, which is a dismay to Aaron.
He had been content in his corner, a place where he could observe without being observed, where he could distance himself from the shallow conversations and frivolous indulgence.
But his decision to leave his little corner had now made him an unwilling witness to a scene that mirrored a teenage sleepover rather than a high-society event, now he was an unwilling witness to the spectacle unfolding, a circle of friends, a bottle spinning, and raucous laughter as it determined the next victim.
It was all so juvenile, so beneath him. He didn’t care. No, he really did not. He exhaled a silent sigh, his eyes scanning the crowd. That’s when he saw you – a flash of mischief in your eyes as you joined the circle.
A mix of anticipation and amusement danced across your features, and for a moment, Aaron found his gaze inexplicably drawn to you.
The bottle pointed at you, and you met his gaze with a mix of anticipation and mischief. He couldn’t help but notice how your smile was brighter tonight, your eyes alight with the shared secrets of the game.
The bottle spun, slowly losing momentum before finally settling.
Nazeera .
The bottle had chosen Nazeera Ibrahim , and Aaron could not help but feel his gut tighten. Nazeera, with her quick wit and unapologetic charm, leaned in and brushed her lips against yours. The room erupted into cheers, the celebration of a simple, harmless act. Aaron downed the rest of his whiskey, his facade barely holding as he looked away.
He did not care. No, he really didn’t . It was a game, a meaningless gesture, and his rational mind understood that. But as he watched you and Nazeera exchange a knowing smile, a spark of anger flared within him, and he was left grappling with an unsettling truth he refused to acknowledge.
The room's energy was infectious, intoxicating, and it stirred something within him he had long suppressed. He downed the rest of his whiskey, its warmth barely soothing the tension in his chest.
The party continued, the spectacle of the game morphing into a dance of bodies and laughter. Aaron moved through the crowd with his usual grace, exchanging pleasantries and polite smiles. As the night waned, the festivities evolved into a more intimate gathering. Aaron found himself once again near the circle, his eyes discreetly observing.
His attention was drawn back to you – your laughter, your smile, the easy camaraderie you shared with those around you. And that spark of anger, the one he had tried to suppress, grew stronger.
The noise seemed to fade around him as he stood there, his thoughts a tempest of confusion and contradiction. He had been adamant that he did not care, that he was above the trivialities of the game. Yet, as he looked at you, a realization began to crystallize.
It was not about the kiss.
His internal debate was disrupted when Nazeera approached him, her gaze sharp and perceptive. ”What's eating at you, Warner?”
He gave her a sidelong glance, his features carefully composed. “Nothing worth mentioning.”
She chuckled, a knowing glint in her eyes. “I’ve known you long enough to recognize when something’s bothering you.”
He met her gaze, his voice firm. “It’s none of your concern, Ibrahim.”
She leaned in, her voice a whisper that held a hint of teasing. “You know, it’s okay to be bothered by something, even if you pretend otherwise. You don’t fool me, Aaron Warner. ”
With that, she walked away, leaving Aaron to wrestle with the turmoil within him. He moved to a quieter corner of the room, his thoughts a tumultuous storm.
He didn't care. He couldn’t care.
That was the narrative he had woven for himself. But as he stood there, surrounded by the fading echoes of laughter and celebration, the truth began to claw at him.
The anger he felt wasn’t directed at the kiss itself, but at the fact that he had been forced to witness it.
Yeah, he definitely does hate you.
PRESENT.
Warner would not lie; there was a point when he disliked his friend.
It irked him how she was always stuck by your side, hated her for being your first kiss, hated her for the fact that she kissed you, hated her .
And he also hated you for being all nice and friendly, making him feel like he belonged like he’s included, but then turning around and acting like he did not exist. It made him think you chose Nazeera over him in some weird way.
The memory of it was a bitter pill to swallow. Now, he’s watching as Nazeera wrapped her arms around your waist, your laughter intermingling with the music, kishimoto no longer in sight.
Aaron’s jaw clenched as Nazeera’s touch lingered, her fingers grazing your skin.
Then you turned around, your arms snaking around Nazeera’s neck, hugging her from behind. The sight of your intimate embrace, the way your top lifted to reveal a hint of skin, stirred something in him that he could not quite name. He looked away, his irritation magnified by the laughter of Juliette and Adam, who were thoroughly entertained by his discomfort.
“Hey, Warner, you’re missing quite the show,” Juliette teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
He forced a half-hearted smile, his gaze avoiding the dance floor. “I’ve seen better.”
Adam chuckled, clapping a hand on Warner’s shoulder. “Come on, man, don’t be such a killjoy. Live a little.” Warner only shoved his hand from his shoulder making Adam and Juliette laugh.
Their voices fell deaf on his ears as his attention was drawn back to you and Nazeera. The two of you seemed lost in your own world.
Warner pressed his lips together, his gaze fixed ahead with an air of annoyance. Even though Nazeera was this kind of ex-but-not-really, he still saw her as one of them. It was not jealousy, not exactly, but Nazeera’s striking resemblance to you made things pretty complicated. You and Nazeera seemed like two sides of the same coin on occasions.
Warner could not help but entertain the thoughts that he might have been a better choice for a first kiss – not that he was particularly yearning for that, though. Kissing you? no way, that would be way too crazy. It was completely out of the question. That was just a wild and outlandish notion, but…
Aaron Warner sure would have been a better first kiss.
But that’s only his own personal opinion. He genuinely has no real interest in it, none whatsoever.
He didn’t really care about you anyway.