Author's Note:
Hello! It's been quite a while since I've actually uploaded anything onto here, so I'm going to make this quick. I am indeed still alive, I have just been incredibly busy with school (also, I've been having a bit of writer's block). Disclaimer: I do not own Homestuck. That is owned by Andrew Hussie.
This fanfic takes place in an AU (it seems like it's all I write nowadays). So this fanfiction is a bit more settle and slow. It's also very short. This isn't meant to be a story with several chapters...but if there's a demand for more chapters, I'll see what I can do. That's enough of me talking. So...enjoy! ^_^
I've never seen him around here before. He was different than other people that came into the cafe. Something about his hair, his rectangle shaped glasses, and his smile seemed all too familiar. And his eyes…they were blue as the afternoon sky. I was speechless and my heart began to thump as he approached the register. He looked at the menu and began to speak with a voice that I could only describe as dorky.
"What's good today?" he tilted his head and gave me a little smile.
"U-uh, oh. Um, well everything is always good." I adjusted my apron nervously.
The boy with the blue eyes chuckled a bit. "Is that so? Well then I'll have an iced tea and a muffin. Thanks,—" he paused to look at my name tag. "—Dave."
"No problem… uh…" I looked at the place where his name tag would be.
"Oh!" his eyes widened. "I'm John! Pleased to meet you. So Dave, what's my total?"
I then gave him the price and he paid for it. After he got his order, he sat at the table closest to the window. When my shift was over, he was still here. Noticing that I was on break, he offered a seat to me. I accepted his offer.
"So I've never seen you here before, John."
"That's because I'm traveling." He smiled. "I'm a writer and I'm trying to find inspiration. I'm also in writer's block so I decided that some traveling might help me get past it."
I took a sip of some apple juice that my bro packed for me. "Oh really? What type of things do you write about?"
"Mostly theories and fiction." He stretched his arms above his head and gave a huge grin. "I know that it probably sounds stupid, but I find it fascinating."
We talked for a few more minutes and pretty soon I felt like I knew him from somewhere and I just couldn't let myself not ask that question.
"Do I know you from somewhere? I'm sorry if that was an abrupt question, but I genuinely feel like I've seen you before. Maybe from college or some other place?"
John gave me a weird look but then reverted to his goofy face. "That's an odd question, indeed. But now that you've mentioned it. I do think I've seen you before as well. Where did you grow up?"
"Texas." I answered.
"That's weird. I grew up in Washington. How'd you end up here in Oregon?" he bit his lower lip.
"I…" My voice trailed off.
Looking down at the table, I repeated that question in my mind. How did I end up in Oregon? Bro was always fond of living in Texas. In fact, moving would've been the last thing on his mind. Although… What have I been doing for the past few years? I don't recall going to college and I don't remember the process of moving from Texas to Oregon. I only remember the fact that I grew up in Texas and bam, I now lived here. Eyes widening with this lost memory, I looked up at John.
"I…I don't remember." I murmured.
John inhaled sharply and looked as if he was pondering that question as well. After a minute or so, he moved his gaze back to me. "I only remember growing up in Washington. As for how I became a writer, I don't know." His breaths became more shallow and quick. "What's happening to us?"
"I'm not sure, but do you have a number or something that I can reach you by? I have to go to back to work soon and I want to continue this conversation later." I urgently asked.
"Yeah no problem." John grabbed a pen from his backpack and scribbled a series of numbers on a napkin. He passed the napkin to me and I stuffed it into my pocket. Standing up, I patted him on the shoulder.
And then, everything went black.
I saw nothing but a red clockwork gear that stood still in the darkness. It seemed to be slowly turning counter-clockwise. Then suddenly, a flood of memories poured into my mind. I saw people and places I did not recognize. I saw a snowy forest with a girl that had long black hair with the addition of huge gun. A name entered my mind and within a second I knew her name. Jade Harley.
I saw another place. A planet full of lava and clockwork. Monsters of all sizes seemed to inhabit this place.
Then another memory flashed before my eyes. The scenery changed and I felt a wave of emotions flood over me. I found myself standing beside a dead body that lay on the ground. A sword—no…bro's sword impaled the dead person. My gaze eventually made its way over to the person's face and I instantly recognized who it was.
It was bro.
My knees unbuckled beneath me and I fell to my knees.
"No," I heard myself say. My voice cracked. "It can't be true. You're back in Texas! You're back home…right?" I felt my eyes starting to tear up. "Where am I?"
A logo flashed before my eyes and I instantly understood.
"The game," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "I understand now."
Then my surroundings seemed to warp back into the modern day setting. I was back into the coffee shop, my hand still on John's shoulder.
"Did you see that?" I gazed at him, my mind still in awe. If he had seen what I had seen, then perhaps we could both make sense of this nonsense. I had a feeling that what I saw was my past. Whether it was in another life time or not, I was determined to find the truth.
"See what?" he looked at me with a blank stare.
"Those memories... They were of my past—our past. Do you remember SBURB? The game? Jade Harley? She lived on that island. Rose Lalonde? She helped you get into the game! Oh, John, I'm so stupid! Of course, this all makes sense now! We were made to forget—Everything was reset—"
John stood up, grabbed his backpack and jacket. "I don't know what you're talking about. Look, I recognize you from somewhere, but now you're just talking nonsense. I should leave." He quickly walked to exit.
"No, John! Don't leave! We need to figure this out!" I called after him as he opened the door.
He stopped and looked back at me, "No. You need to figure this out."
And then he left.
I never saw him again. He probably wanted to forget that this encounter ever happened.
When I got back home that day (was it even my real home?), I pulled out the crinkled napkin that he had written his phone number on. The rain had somehow smudged out majourity of the numbers. The only remaining numbers were "413".
"His birthday," I whispered. There was so much I had wanted to tell him. I needed him to remember what had happened with the game, and maybe together we could find Jade and Rose. And after that, we could go back to how things were.
But it didn't matter anymore.
After all, he was just a boy in the coffee shop.