Age 19 - 2043
"Aiden, please. Just one date."
Aiden sighed, facing yet another confession of love. This time it was Madison Chen, daughter of a tech mogul, beautiful and brilliant and completely smitten with him.
"Madison, you're amazing. But I don't feel that way about you."
"How do you know if you won't even try?"
"Because..." How could he explain? That everyone who expressed interest in him felt wrong? That despite their beauty, intelligence, kindness, none of them sparked anything in his heart except friendly affection?
"Is there someone else?" Madison asked.
"No. There's no one."
But that was a lie. There was someone. He didn't know who, didn't know where, might never have met them. But his heart was waiting for someone specific.
It had become a pattern. Someone would confess feelings, Aiden would gently decline, and they'd be heartbroken. Not because he was cruel—he was unfailingly kind in his rejections—but because being turned down by Aiden Luxury hurt more than typical rejection.
Because when he looked at you, really looked at you with those warm, genuine eyes, you felt seen in a way that was addictive. And when he turned that attention away, when he made it clear you'd never have more than friendship, it felt like losing something precious.
"He's going to meet someone extraordinary someday," his best friend James said. "Someone who finally makes his eyes light up the way everyone else's does when they look at him."
"Poor soul," another friend joked. "They'll have to compete with hundreds of broken hearts."
But Aiden wasn't thinking about competition. He was thinking about those gray eyes from his dreams. Wondering if they were real. Wondering if he was crazy for feeling like his heart was waiting for a ghost.