Chapter 1

"Hey, Nick."

I heard a voice. Where was it coming from?

"Nikholaous, sweetie, are you awake?"

More whispers from a familiar voice. My eyes were still closed and I had no idea what was going on. After pondering this, I decided I was too tired to open my eyes. Whoever is calling me will just have to wait.

However, I'm rather curious. If I were a cat, that would be bad. I slowly open my eyes. It's way too bright for my liking, so I close them.

"You must be really tired, huh, cutie?"

What was this?! Someone was BABYING me!? I am NOT five, I'm seventeen!

… I think.

Whoa, hold the show. Who the hell am I?

I have to open my eyes. Curiosity is getting the best of me.

I see a tall woman, probably about the age of thirty, with dirty blonde hair tied up neatly into a ponytail with her side-swept fringe hanging down across her forehead standing next to me. She wears salmon-coloured scrubs with a stethoscope hanging from her neck. Who the hell wears salmon-coloured scrubs? I decide almost immediately that she's a doctor or a nurse, but why is she standing next to me? How does she know my name? Do I know her? And where the bloody hell am I?

"Hey you," she smiles. "Good afternoon."

I don't say anything back and instead look around. I was in a hospital. But the walls were yellow and had fluffy pink bunnies painted on them. Holy shit, I AM five!

Slightly hysterical, I turn to the strange woman. "How old am I?"

"Seventeen," she replies and puts her hand on my shoulder. "Sit up for me?"

I do as she says, slightly wincing from the pain it caused me.

"Oh…" I trail off. "Then, uh, not trying to be rude, but what's with the bunnies and cuteness?"

She laughs a bit. "I wanted to keep an eye on you here." Confusion. She places the stethoscope on my back. "Deep breaths."

I breathe in once and cry out in pain. "Ow!"

She frowns. "Lie back down."

I slowly do so. "Do I … know you?" I hesitantly ask.

She nods. "I'm Celeste, your sister-in-law. I work here in pediatrics, so that's why you're here."

"Oh. Then I must have a brother somewhere in the picture."

"You have three. Well... two."

"What?"

Her bright face turned dark. "Nick, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"Brought what up? What? Who?"

Celeste turns away as her eyes start to water.

"Did someone die? Is that why I'm here? Did something happen to us? You're not telling me anything."

She turns back, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "No one died yesterday."

"Then someone died some other time. I'm guessing someone we love. I'm guessing a brother."

Sadly nodding, she tells, "It was a long time ago. You always wanted to forget it and I figured we just wouldn't ever bring it up ever again since you lost your memory yesterday but I ruined it, and I'm really, really sorry. I'm," sob, "really," sob. Then she loses herself into a bout of sobbing and buries her face into my chest.

I pat her on the back. "There, there. It's okay."

Celeste stands back up, pulling herself back together. She takes the bottom of her shirt and uses it to wipe away the tears. She sniffs. "I'm sorry."

I look up at her, sadness present in my eyes. "Look, I have no idea who you are, or really who I am, but it's okay. I'm not mad at you. It's fine."

She looks up and sighs, blowing some of her fringe out of her eyes. "Okay." She wipes her eyes again and then turns back to me. "How are you feeling?"

I shrug. "I don't really feel anything except everything's kinda sore. Am I sick? Is that why I'm here?"

"You flipped a car," she tells me, putting her hand on my shoulder as a comforting gesture.

I raised my eyebrows. "Am I really that bad of a driver?"

She shakes her head. "There was a storm and I don't really know what happened."

"Well neither do I."

"I think Anthony might know."

"Who?"

"Your boss."

"My boss?"

"You were driving him home."

"I was driving an adult home?"

"He was drunk."

"Makes sense… is he okay?"

"Better off than you."

"Am I supposed to be mad at him? Do I like him?"

"You love him."

"Are we a couple?!"

"Ew! No! He has a wife and kids! You guys are just really close buddies."

"I'm buddies with my boss? Aren't bosses supposed to be assholes?"

"You play the trumpet."

"I play the trumpet?"

"Yes."

"Is that relevant?"

"Yes. You intern at a symphony."

"I intern?"

"That's why you guys are buddies. You sit next to him every day at work. You share music."

"Huh…"

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I just… this is a lot to process and my head hurts. A lot. Actually, everything hurts…"

She flashes me a sympathetic smile. "You're allergic to morphine. It's gonna hurt like hell for awhile."

"You're nice," I retort sarcastically.

"You hate it when I lie to you."

"Well, I guess this is better than being built up with lies. What else can you tell me?"

"I think you should rest."

"I meant about my life. Where do I live? Am I nice? Do I like puppies? Do I have a girlfriend?"

"You live in California. You are generally a nice person. You have three dogs and a cat. And you have a boyfriend."

"I'm gay?"

"Flamingly."

"That's… nice. So, where is said boyfriend? Should he not be sitting at my bedside waiting anxiously for me to wake up?"

"He's on tour. You know how those superstars are!"

"I'm dating a famous person?" I ask. Pretty kick ass, if I do say so myself. "I find that rather hard to believe."

She laughs, smugly smiling. "You better believe it. You're rather popular yourself."

"Me? Popular?" I ask, pointing to myself. I seem like your average Joe. Not someone anyone would have posters of plastered to their walls in their bedroom.

Celeste grabs the TV remote from the table by my bed and types in '13.' The TV switches from the Animal Planet to E! News.

The TV was playing a clip of two guys wearing sunglasses with baseball caps on, rushing away from flashing lights and screaming girls with smoothies in hand.

"Who are they?" I ask.

"That's you," she says, pointing to the guy in the red skinny jeans, black sweater, and black and white scarf getting into a car. She points to the other guy. "And that's Sasha, your boyfriend." Sasha was wearing blue jeans, UGG boots, and a sweater with reindeer on it. He wore blue-framed glasses that were slightly crooked. He smiled really goofily at some of the girls surrounding what I guessed was my car and my expression doesn't change. I look ahead like no one is there.

"My boyfriend looks really dorky," I say, shocked by how fabulous I looked, and how unfabulous he looked.

Celeste nods. "That's why you love him."

I wrinkle my nose in disgust. "Ick."

"Don't say that. You two are adorable."

I keep watching the TV. It's muted so I can't hear a word anyone's saying, but it switches from pictures of us to a dark, rainy setting with flashing blue and red lights. Ambulances.

Celeste turns off the TV.

I turn to her. "I wanna see that!"

"No," she says, throwing the remote on the chair across the room, "you don't."

"Wha?"

"The video has been playing all day. It's so gross."

"So what did happen to me?"

She sits down in a chair next to me. "You and Anthony went to a work party last night and he assigned you as designated driver, so when he got too drunk to stand up straight, you drove him home in his giant Republican mobile. All I know is that you flipped it because it was raining and the roads were slippery."

"Shit," I curse. "Is he okay?"

"He's still sleeping. He had to have surgery to fix his foot."

"What happened to me?" I ask. "Did I have to have surgery too?" I yawn. It feels like it's three in the morning.

She nods. "You hit your head pretty hard, which is why you can't remember anything. And you weren't wearing a seatbelt. You got really injured. You had to have surgery to fix the internal bleeding."

"Ouch," I mutter.

"Broken leg, two broken ribs, broken wrist, broken memory… Why didn't you wear a seatbelt?"

I shrug. "Don't ask me. I can't remember anything."

She sighs.

I close my eyes. This was all a lot to digest.

"You should sleep. You must be tired," she tells me.

I nod.

Celeste stokes my hair gently. "You'll be okay. I promise."

"Mmhmm," I mutter, too tired to say anything coherent.

She kisses my forehead. "Sleep well. Here's your panda."

I open my eyes far enough to see a plush panda wearing a marching band uniform being pushed at me. I take it and hold onto it. It was comforting.

"You like pandas. A lot."

"Oh really now?"

"Yep. Night, cutie."

"Night."