Sorry Not Sorry pt 1. | Jafaar Jackson x F! Reader
synopsis: You come across an interview of Jafaar mentioning you but for the wrong reasons. The old flame the two of you once had rekindles when you come to the city to set things straight.
warnings: mentions of cheating, arguing, clout chasing, degrading, ex lovers, somewhat stalking, toxic relationship
a/n: My inspiration is the video below!
âJafaar, we hear a certain someone inspired the heartbreaking scenes of the movie. How did that affect you, and what space were you in?â
He let out an awkward laugh, gathering his thoughts before turning his attention back toward the host. Jafaar knew if he gave too much away, the internet would have a field day over him opening up about something so personal.
âWhat inspired me was an old relationship I was in,â he finally admitted. âThe love wasnât genuine, and it affected me pretty badly. I donât wish them any harm, but I do wish they couldâve come to me as a fan and not as a groupie.â
The audience gasped at the comparison, immediately picking up on the underlying shade. The hostâs eyes widened as the crowd began murmuring amongst themselves, realizing Jafaar had practically confirmed there was a real story behind the movie.
You stared at the television in disbelief before reaching for the remote.
You crossed your arms over your chest, your jaw tightening as his words replayed in your head. A groupie? After everything the two of you had been through, that was how he chose to describe you?
Your hand immediately reached for your phone, dialing your assistant with the quickness.
âGet me on a red-eye flight right now,â you ordered. âIâve got something to take care of. Itâll only be for a second, and Iâll be back by the next night.â
Unaware of your plan, Jafaar opened the door to his hotel room and immediately pulled out his phone. Comments flooded his screen, messages pouring in from people reacting to the live interview and demanding answers about what he had said.
He scrolled for a few seconds, watching the speculation grow by the minute. He had no interest in explaining himself again or giving anyone more details about what happened between you two.
With an exhausted sigh, Jafaar locked his phone and tossed it onto the bed. For tonight, he was done with the questions.
Across the country, you were boarding your flight, ready to confront him about his distasteful comment. Your heels clicked against the airport floor as you made your way toward the gate, your carry-on rolling behind you while your assistant hurried to keep up.
You had spent the entire ride to the airport replaying his words in your head. A groupie.
The word alone was enough to make your blood boil. After everything you had given him, every secret you kept, and every sacrifice you made to protect his image, he had the nerve to reduce you to something so cheap.
You settled into your seat by the window, crossing your arms as the flight attendant made her rounds. Your phone buzzed repeatedly with messages from your assistant, but you ignored them. There was nothing anyone could say that would make you turn around now.
The plane slowly pulled away from the gate, and you stared out at the city lights disappearing beneath the clouds. By tomorrow night, you would be back home.
But before then, Jafaar was going to hear exactly what you had to say.
Once the time changed, you landed and immediately took a quick Uber to his exact location. Thanks to your assistantâs sharp eye and some digging through the background of one of his Instagram posts, you knew exactly where he was staying.
You sat in the backseat, watching the unfamiliar streets pass by through the window. Your anger had only grown stronger during the flight, and now that you were finally in the same city, there was no turning back.
Your phone buzzed with a message from your assistant confirming the address.
You locked your phone and took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the conversation waiting on the other side of that hotel door.
The hotel stood tall against the dark night, almost taunting you as it kept him safely tucked away inside. Its bright windows glowed against the darkness, making the place feel even more intimidating as you stared up at it from the backseat.
You clenched your purse in your lap and took a deep breath. After traveling all this way, there was no turning around now. You were here for one reason, and Jafaar was going to hear every word you had been holding back.
You stepped out of the Uber and immediately straightened your coat, glancing up at the towering hotel before making your way toward the entrance. The doorman barely had time to look your way before you walked through the revolving doors, your heels clicking loudly against the marble floor.
The warmth of the lobby hit you immediately. Everything looked expensive, polished, and almost too calm for how furious you felt. Guests wandered around carrying luggage while others sat comfortably in the lounge, completely unaware that you had just crossed the country with one thing on your mind.
You approached the front desk, keeping your expression calm despite the anger boiling underneath.
âExcuse me,â you said, leaning against the counter. âIâm here to see Jafaar.â
The receptionist looked up from her computer, her fingers pausing over the keyboard.
âDo you have a room number?â
You hesitated for a second before giving her the information your assistant had managed to track down. The receptionist typed it in, then glanced back at you.
âIâm sorry, but I canât give out any information about our guests.â
âIâm not asking you to give me anything,â you replied, crossing your arms. âI already know heâs here. I just need you to call his room.â
She studied you for a moment before finally reaching for the phone.
You stood there patiently, tapping your fingers against your purse as the phone rang upstairs. Every ring seemed to make your heartbeat pound harder.
You let out a quiet sigh and looked toward the elevators.
If he wasn't going to answer the phone, you'd just have to find another way upstairs.
You spotted a luggage cart rolling past the lobby and quickly glanced around before hopping onto it. You ducked behind the stack of bags, using them as cover while the bellhop pushed the cart toward the elevators.
You held your breath, trying your hardest not to laugh at how ridiculous the plan was. After flying across the country just to confront one man, hiding behind someoneâs luggage was definitely not how you imagined getting upstairs.
The elevator doors opened with a soft ding, and the bellhop wheeled the cart inside without noticing you tucked behind the bags.
You peeked over one of the suitcases, watching the lobby disappear as the doors slowly closed.
You tightened your grip on your purse and waited.
The elevator came to a stop with a soft ding, making you peek over the luggage to see which floor you had landed on. The bellhop pushed the cart into the hallway, completely unaware that you had tagged along for the ride.
You waited until the hallway was quiet before carefully sliding off the cart. Your heels touched the carpet as you ducked behind the corner, watching him disappear around the opposite end of the hall.
âOkay,â you whispered to yourself. âNow where is his room?â
You pulled your phone from your purse and quickly checked the information your assistant had sent you. You followed the room numbers down the hallway, your heart pounding harder with every step.
The further you walked, the quieter the hotel became. The sounds of the lobby were long gone, replaced by the faint hum of the air conditioning and the occasional door opening somewhere down the hall.
Finally, you spotted the room number.
You stopped in front of the door, staring at it for a few seconds.
All the anger you had felt on the plane came rushing back. His words. His smile during the interview. The way he casually compared what you two had to some meaningless hookup.
You clenched your jaw and raised your fist toward the door.
You knocked again, harder this time.
You reached for the handle, hoping it wasn't locked.
Your eyes widened when the door opened.
You slowly pushed it open and stepped inside.
âJafaar?â you called, closing the door behind you.
The hotel room was dim, with only the television illuminating the living area. His jacket was tossed over the chair, his shoes sat near the couch, and his phone rested on the table.
You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for whatever was about to happen next.
The shuffle of the sheets caught your attention, causing you to move closer to the bed. You reached down and ripped the covers away from him, finally revealing Jafaar staring back at you in complete shock.
âYou donât hear me calling you?â you snapped, planting your hands on your hips.
Jafaar blinked a few times, clearly caught off guard by your sudden appearance.
âWhat the hell are you doing here?â
âYou canât be serious right now!â you snapped, throwing your hands up. âGet the fuck up so we can talk.â
Jafaar stared at you for a moment, still trying to process how you had managed to get into his hotel room. He slowly pushed himself upright, rubbing his face before looking at you with a mixture of confusion and annoyance.
âYou came all the way here just to yell at me?â he asked.
âDonât start with me,â you fired back. âYou know exactly why Iâm here.â
âI donât, actually,â he replied, staring at you with a blank expression.
You scoffed, folding your arms across your chest.
âReally? Youâre gonna sit there and act like you have no idea why Iâm here? I'm not fucking stupid.â
Jafaar shrugged, still looking completely unfazed.
You let out a sharp breath through your nose before taking a seat beside him. Without saying another word, you pulled out your phone and played the clip, holding it up for him to watch.
Jafaar watched the interview replay, his expression barely changing as his own words filled the room.
When the clip ended, you lowered your phone and stared at him.
âYouâre mad over that?â he asked, genuinely confused.
âJafaar, you know why,â you snapped, your voice cracking slightly. âYou called me a groupie and said the relationship wasnât genuine. I gave up so much for you.â
You stared at him, waiting for him to understand just how much those words had hurt you.
âI kept your secrets. I protected you. I stood beside you when nobody else knew what was really going on between us, and now you get on television and make me sound like I was nothing but some fling.â
Jafaarâs expression softened, but you werenât finished.
âYou donât get to rewrite what happened between us just because it makes for a better story.â
A laugh cracked from him before he straightened himself up, his expression shifting from confusion to frustration.
âSo you donât remember cheating on me for someone else and posting about it like some hoe?â he fired back. âYou were telling the whole world that I did you wrong when you were the one who did me wrong.â
His eyes stayed locked on yours, no longer trying to avoid the argument.
âYou made me look like the villain, and I never said a word about what actually happened between us.â
Jafaar stood from the bed and grabbed your suitcase, holding it out toward you with a pointed look.
He didn't say a word. He simply waited, hoping the gesture would be enough to make you understand that the conversation was over and it was time for you to leave.
You stared at the suitcase before slowly looking back up at him, your jaw tightening.
âSo that's it?â you asked.
âYup. I suggest you find yourself a room for the night and take the next flight back home because thereâs nothing more for me to say,â he continued, keeping the suitcase held out toward you.
His tone was cold, almost too calm for an argument this heated. He had already made up his mind, and there was nothing in his expression that suggested he wanted to hear another word.
His jaw clenched as you stubbornly glued your hips to the armchair, refusing to move an inch. You crossed your arms over your chest, staring him down as he stood there with your suitcase still in his hand.
Neither of you were willing to back down.
âIâm not saying it again. Leave.â
His voice dropped, the patience in his face completely gone. He stood there staring you down, waiting for you to finally get up and take the hint.
You stayed planted in the chair, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
âDonât worry about it. We can fix this problem since you wanna be a brat,â he muttered, setting your suitcase down.
His jaw tightened as he stared at you, clearly running out of patience. You remained planted in the armchair, refusing to give him the reaction he wanted.
âThen fix it,â you challenged, raising an eyebrow.
