Chapter 6: Instagram Troubles
Saturday had been bloody lovely.
The ramen date had gone surprisingly well—soft-boiled eggs, shared gyoza, even a bit of shoulder-to-shoulder lingering at the tiny bar-style table. Cozy. Easy.
Aaron had walked Ted home after, and everything had felt… tentative. Hopeful. Like something that might grow if handled carefully.
Then Sunday morning, Ted woke up to digital chaos.
His phone buzzed once. Twice. Then ten times in a row.
Instagram:
@lizlikesplants tagged you in a photo.
@ken.laughs: holy sh—
@maggie.flowers: You’re famous now, love!
DM from Ken: Did you approve this?!
Ted, still blinking sleep from his eyes, squinted at the screen. Then tapped.
And there it was.
A soft-focus photo of him from the back—standing at Maggie’s flower stall. His head tilted just enough that anyone who knew him would recognise him instantly. In front of him, only partially in frame, was Aaron. Hoodie, profile, unmistakable jawline.
The caption read:
“I spy a rom-com brewing… He doesn’t know I’m rooting for him. #aaronsboy #finally #flowersandfeelings”
Ted sat bolt upright in bed.
“NOPE.”
He clicked into the post. Praying he was hallucinating.
He wasn’t.
Liz had not only tagged him—full name, public account—but she’d also used a photo Aaron must’ve sent her.
The comments were already rolling in.
@gracecooks: Who’s this mysterious cutie?
@sophiewrites: Aaron finally met someone?? Is it serious???
@lizlikesplants: He buys flowers and has kind eyes. A unicorn.
Ted’s heart did something very unromantic. More like a bellyflop than a flutter.
And the worst part?
Aaron had liked the post.
Not commented. Not untagged. Just liked it.
Which meant… he’d seen it.
And said nothing.
⸻
“What the hell,” Ted hissed into his phone two hours later.
“What kind of feral behaviour is this?!”
Ken, ever the brunch therapist, calmly sipped his iced matcha while Ted paced the café like a man possessed.
“You’ve been tagged. Congrats. You’re officially Main Character™ energy now.”
“She used a photo from Aaron! He must have sent it to her, and she just—posted it!”
Ken raised an eyebrow.
“Without asking either of you?”
Ted threw himself onto the bench beside Ken.
“Apparently.”
Ken smirked.
“Well. That is spicy.”
“This is stalker-adjacent!”
“You literally stalked Aaron’s Instagram likes last week.”
“That was research!”
“And this is meddling,” Ken replied smoothly.
“Liz is a meddler. And I respect it.”
Ted groaned into his hands.
“Why doesn’t Aaron say anything?!”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to make it worse. Or maybe he’s in hiding. I would be.”
Ken arched a brow.
“She sniffed you out from one blurry photo and went full rom-com fairy godmother. Honestly, impressive.”
⸻
The real fallout came two days later.
At the gym.
But of course it did.
Ted was mid-treadmill, earbuds in, when he spotted Aaron across the room, heading toward the dumbbells.
Aaron spotted him too.
“Ted,” he called, voice steady but face unreadable.
Ted slowed to a stop, yanked out an earbud.
“Hey.”
“Can we talk?”
They stepped outside, into the cool Leeds air.
Aaron shoved his hands deep into his hoodie pocket.
“I’m so sorry,” he said.
“She shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t know she was going to post it.”
Ted frowned.
“You sent her that photo?”
“I sent her a bunch,” Aaron admitted.
“Not thinking—just catching up. And then I woke up and saw she’d gone full Hallmark.”
Ted winced.
“She tagged me.”
“I know.”
“You liked it.”
“I panicked!” Aaron ran a hand through his hair, visibly frustrated.
“I didn’t know whether to message you first or scream at her. I did scream at her eventually.”
Ted’s eyebrows shot up.
“You screamed at her?”
“She laughed. Said someone had to do something or I’d end up dying alone with my succulents.”
“…You have succulents?”
“Not the point.”
Ted’s lips twitched despite himself.
“So you’re… not mad at me?”
Aaron looked up.
“Mad at you? No. Embarrassed? Yes. I’d wanted to take things slow. Just us. Not… public speculation and hashtag fanfare.”
Aaron nodded.
“I get that.”
Aaron was quiet for a moment.
“I really liked it,” he admitted.
“The photo. Us. It just felt… big. And fast…suddenly not ours.”
Ted’s heart softened.
“You’re right. It should’ve been ours.”
“I’m not angry that people know,” Aaron added.
“I just… want to be part of the moment. Not a spectator.”
Ted stepped closer, their shoulders brushing now.
“Then next time, we post something together,” he said.
“Preferably with consent.”
Aaron gave a reluctant grin.
“I’d like that.”
Ted smirked.
“I’ll even let you pick the filter.”
“You’re too kind.”
“I know. Maggie said I have gentle eyes.”
Aaron blinked.
“You do.”
Ted flushed. Again.
A beat passed between them, full of something unspoken but warming.
Then Aaron added, “Still going to murder Liz.”
Ted laughed.
“Let me know if you want help hiding the body.”
“Deal.”
And just like that, the crisis turned into… something else entirely.
Something real.
Something theirs.
⸻