Love Algorithm

Static Between Signals

The rain hadn't stopped since last night.
It fell in sheets, blurring the world outside Nova's window into a watercolor of gray and neon.

Her phone glowed faintly on the nightstand, another unread message from @thealgorithm sitting at the top.

She didn't open it.
Not yet.

Instead, she stared at the cracked ceiling, counting the seconds between thunder.
Every rumble reminded her of that rooftop.
Of him.

Aiden Reyes.

Her brain said run.
Her heart said you already fell.

She groaned, pressing her pillow over her face.
"Why does he have to be—"
Her phone buzzed again.
Of course.

She flipped it over.
Not @thealgorithm this time.

Aiden: Meet me. South lot. 8:00. Don't ghost me, Nova.

She stared at the text for a full minute.

She should say no.
She should stay home, log off, let the world forget her name.

But her fingers were already typing back.
Nova: Five minutes.

The south lot was nearly empty when she arrived.
A single flickering streetlight cast long, broken shadows across the wet asphalt.

Aiden leaned against his car — black hoodie, damp hair, phone in one hand, smirk in the other.

"You came."

Nova crossed her arms. "You said don't ghost you. I'm being polite."

He grinned. "Polite. That's new."

She rolled her eyes, but her pulse betrayed her.
"Why am I here, Aiden?"

He slid his phone into his pocket. "Because I think I know who's behind @thealgorithm."

That caught her breath. "What?"

He stepped closer, voice low. "Someone's been using Ridgeview's private network. Anonymous account, encrypted. Only a few people have that access."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning it's someone close."

Nova looked away. "Of course it is."

"Hey," he said softly. "We'll figure it out."

Something in his tone—calm, certain—made her chest ache.

She hated that she trusted him.

Lightning flashed, and for a second, his eyes looked almost gold.
He was watching her too closely, like he could see every thought she was trying to bury.

"You're staring," she said.

"Yeah," he admitted. "You're hard not to."

Her pulse jumped.
"Aiden—"

He tilted his head, smile faint. "What?"

"This isn't—whatever this is—it's not supposed to happen."

He stepped closer, close enough she could smell the rain on his hoodie.
"Too late for that, don't you think?"

Her breath caught.
He wasn't touching her, but it felt like he was.

"I thought you liked chaos," he murmured.

"I don't like getting burned," she whispered back.

Aiden's smile turned slow, dangerous. "Then stop playing with fire."

They stood there in silence, rain dripping from the hood of his jacket, the world narrowing until it was just them.

"Do you ever wish you could rewind everything?" she asked quietly.

He looked up at the storm. "No. Every mistake taught me something."

"What did this one teach you?"

He met her eyes. "That I'd do it again."

Her breath hitched. "Aiden..."

"Relax," he said softly. "I'm not gonna kiss you. Not unless you want me to."

She looked down, biting her lip. "You really think you're that irresistible?"

"Not think," he said, stepping back, "just guessing."

For a moment, she almost laughed. The tension cracked, just slightly.

But then his phone buzzed.

He checked it, and his face shifted.
The smirk vanished.

Nova frowned. "What?"

He turned the screen toward her.

@thealgorithm: Don't get too close, Aiden. Sparks make fire. Fire destroys everything.

Her stomach twisted. "They're watching us."

He pocketed the phone. "Then let them."

She blinked. "You're insane."

"Maybe," he said, "but I'm not scared of whoever this is."

"You should be."

He smiled faintly. "They can post what they want. The truth doesn't scare me."

Nova looked away. "Yeah, well... it scares me."

Aiden took a slow step forward, closing the distance between them again.

"Then let me take the hit," he said quietly.

She met his eyes, confused. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I started this," he said. "And because—"

He hesitated, like the words themselves were dangerous.

"Because I can't stop thinking about you."

Her chest tightened. "You shouldn't say that."

He smirked again, softer this time. "You shouldn't want me to."

She shook her head, fighting the smile that tried to break through. "You're impossible."

"And yet, here you are," he said. "In the rain. With me."

The lightning cracked again, thunder rolling through the night.

They stood there, close enough that her reflection flickered in his eyes.

And for a second—one dangerous, suspended second—Nova forgot about the video, the whispers, the hashtags.

It was just Aiden.

Just the storm.

And the static between their hearts.

When she finally stepped back, her voice barely worked.
"We should go."

He nodded, but didn't move.
"Nova," he said softly. "Whatever happens next... don't let them break you."

She looked up at him. "You talk like you've already been broken."

He smiled without humor. "Maybe I have."

And before she could ask what that meant, he was gone—walking into the rain, hoodie pulled tight, like a ghost fading back into the chaos.

Her phone buzzed again.
Another message.

@thealgorithm: Level 3 unlocked.

Nova's fingers shook as she read it.

She didn't know what Level 3 meant.
But somehow, she knew it would hurt.

She looked up at the storm.
And for the first time... she wasn't sure if she was afraid of it, or part of it.