you vs them~ aj shabeel

for the algorithm.

London felt colder than Ella remembered.

She tugged her hoodie tighter as she stepped out of her Uber and dragged her suitcase up the drive to the Beta Squad house. Her real home was technically a sleek apartment in Shoreditch, but she hadn't slept there in weeks. Not when this house — this chaos-filled, camera-ridden house — felt more like hers.

She opened the door without knocking.

Inside, it smelled like Nando's and leftover banter. Sharky's laugh echoed from the living room. Niko was mock-arguing with Chunkz over who had the better US-UK translation skills. AJ's voice was there too, louder than usual — but when she walked in, it dipped.

"Yo," she said, dropping her bag in the hallway. "Miss me?"

AJ glanced over from the sofa, one eyebrow raised. "Barely."

Chunkz grinned. "She brought the LA weather back with her."

Ella leaned over the arm of the couch, ruffling AJ's curls. He swatted her hand away, smirking.

"You stink of influencer energy," he said.

"I am influencer energy."

She looked good, and she knew it — glowing skin, the tail end of a Coachella tan, gold hoops catching the light. But there was something else in her eyes. A hesitation.

Later, when the group had faded into their rooms and Sharky had passed out on the living room beanbag, Ella sat cross-legged on the kitchen island, scrolling through her phone.

AJ wandered in, hoodie slung low over his head.

"You good?" he asked casually, grabbing a bottle of water.

She hesitated. Then held up her phone. "Guess who's got a new fake boyfriend."

AJ blinked. "What?"

She turned the screen toward him. It was a TikTok. Her, dancing with a guy — Max, a content creator with perfect teeth and 2.5 million followers. The caption: "Coachella wasn't the only thing we matched at 🫣✨"

AJ stared, blank-faced.

She dropped her phone beside her. "My manager said it'll boost engagement. Apparently Max's team's been wanting to cross over to UK audiences, and I've got a 'mature' following. So we're doing a little PR link-up."

His voice was flat. "You're fake dating him?"

"For content," she clarified quickly. "A few videos, some comments. Nothing serious."

AJ took a sip of water, jaw clenched. "Right."

Ella tilted her head. "Why do you sound annoyed?"

"I don't," he said. Too fast.

She raised an eyebrow. "You sound like you're gonna swing on him."

"I'm not." He turned away. "Do what you want, innit."

She slid off the counter and followed him into the hallway. "AJ."

"What?"

"You know it's not real."

"Don't matter."

"You know it's not like that."

He turned, finally looking at her. "But they don't know that."

Ella frowned.

"Your fans. His fans. Random gossip accounts. They're gonna see those videos and think he's your man. And I'm just the idiot in the background pretending not to care."

The silence hung between them.

"I didn't know you did care," she said softly.

He blinked at her. Then laughed bitterly. "Safe."

He walked off before she could answer.

⸻

The next day, it got worse.

Max posted another TikTok: a "boyfriend rate my Coachella looks" video. Ella was in three outfits — denim shorts and bikini top, a sheer dress, and an oversized varsity jacket. Max made goofy comments, called her "wifey," and edited in a kissing sound at the end.

The comments flooded in:

they're so cute together i'm obsessed 😭
ella is GLOWINGGGGG
lowkey thought she was seeing AJ from Beta but this is way better
uk girls and LA boys just HIT DIFFERENT

AJ saw it all.

He didn't say a word.

He just avoided her for the rest of the week. He laughed harder at the group jokes. He made TikToks with other creators. He even liked a thirst trap from some random girl in Miami.

Ella noticed every move.

On Thursday, she walked into his room uninvited. He was editing. Headphones on. She snatched the cord out.

He looked up, annoyed. "Excuse me?"

"We need to talk."

"I'm busy."

"Too bad."

She folded her arms, standing over him. "I'm not actually dating Max."

"Didn't ask."

"You didn't have to."

AJ didn't respond. Just watched her, unreadable.

Ella softened. "It's PR. It's fake. It's just a few more posts, and it's done."

He stood up slowly, closing the gap between them.

"Do you like him?"

"What?"

"Do you like him?"

She laughed. "AJ, he's 6'3 and calls himself a 'vibe curator.' No."

He didn't smile.

"I need you to say it's nothing," he murmured. "Because if it's something, I need to back off."

She looked up at him, eyes sharp and glassy. "It's nothing. And you don't have to back off. I want you closer."

He didn't move. Not yet.

"Then stop playing games," he said.

"I'm not."

"You are. You let everyone think we're just vibes. And now there's this Max guy. It's all just jokes and fake flings until someone gets their feelings hurt."

Her voice cracked. "I'm already hurt."

That was the first time either of them admitted it out loud.

AJ blinked at her. And for a second, he didn't know what to do.

So he stepped back.

"Then say what you want. Don't just show it with fake boyfriends and lingering looks."

She didn't answer.

And he didn't push.

But the wall between them had finally cracked — and both of them felt the air shift.

Tomorrow, it might break wide open.