Disclaimer: I hold no rights to Nickleback's How You Remind Me, but I do have the honor of pulling all the unknown characters in this story out of my head. I also don't own any characters from TFTF. I'm poor don't sue, please.

Chapter 2: Remembrance

"Bitch! What the fuck are you doing to my stuff you slut?!"

Morgan heard the angry voice of her EX- boyfriend Devin as she methodically threw all of the things that she hadn't personally bought out her third floor apartment window. When the stereo system was about to go out, she paused, set it down on the maple wood flooring then stuck her head out the window.

"What am I doing? Why don't you take a wild guess, it sure as hell ain't redecorating!" She yelled out as she picked a tacky looking lamp and threw it at him. It shattered on impact with the ground but at that moment she couldn't care less if he was hurt or not. From her stand point it was what the bastard deserved. Especially after she had seen him with a married woman. Sticking her head out again she noticed he had pulled his shitty little car close to the curb and was throwing his unbroken possessions into the back seat.

"I was the other woman, Devin! You cheated on your wife with me! You know how much I hate you right now? Go home you asshole, go get that woman knocked up or something!" Her voice cracked on the last couple of words, he might have been married, but she had to live with the consequences. She stared at her flat stomach half blinded by the tears that sprang from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks as she lowered her self to the floor. Sighing heavily she put a hand to her face and tried to wipe away the tears that wouldn't stop falling.

It was hours before there was any activity in Morgan's apartment again and this time, it was organized and thought out. Devin had already left and taken all of his salvageable possessions with him while Morgan had sat crying in her apartment. The packing didn't start until she had gotten her thoughts together, given a call to her friend to stop over in the morning with her puppy and forced a cold slice of pizza down her throat. By the time she had sorted out what she would keep, give away, and ship to wherever she ended up, it was almost four in the morning. By the time her friend Stacie rang the buzzer to her apartment, Morgan had been in a packing frenzy for almost six hours. Stopping to take a break, Morgan unlocked her apartment door then waded her way through packing material into her tiny kitchen to grab a warm soda for her and Stacie. By the time she had gotten back through her small apartment to the bathroom Stacie had made her way around stacks of boxes in the entry and into the living room.

"Morgan, you alright?" she asked worry evident in her voice as she made her way through the apartment. She found her sitting on the toilet staring blankly at the navy blue curtain that hid her shower.

"What's with all the boxes Morgan, You moving in with Devin?" she asked gaining a sob from Morgan as she broke into tears again.

"I promised I wouldn't cry again!" She yelled as tears ran in rivulets down her cheeks.

"Morgan what's wrong?" her friend asked concern evident on her usually bright face.

"HE'S MARRIED!" Morgan screamed as she fell to the floor sobbing, "He's married, and I'M PREGNANT!" she curled in on herself desperate to stop the pain that stabbed through her every time she thought about what he had said to her. promising marriage, a family eventually, saying that he loved her, she realized then that it was all a lie, she had been swindled, and used, and she was too innocent to think that he could be lying to her, never mind leading a double life. No, if he could pay for caviar in some fancy pants restaurant, he really didn't need to have the last five hundred dollars she had made at work.

"I moved to new York to make something of myself, not end up who I am today." Morgan murmured pain evident in her voice.

Stacie sat down next to her, "I don't think anyone really wants to end up like us. The only thing that's worse is whores, and call girls, scratch that we are worse than call girls, because they don't have to deal with cameras."

"Did you bring barren?" Morgan asked as she dried her tear stained cheeks with the back of her hand and sniffed back the rest of her unwanted tears.

Stacie nodded, "yeah I left him in a box of Peanuts." She chuckled slightly as she pulled Morgan up off of the tiled floor. "Go lie down; I'll take care of the rest."

"It's divided up, three different piles." Morgan said as Stacie sat her down on her bed. "I think I'll figure it all out. Take a nap, you need it."

…

Morgan woke up gasping for breath, fear coursing through her when she didn't immediately recognize where she was. It was several minutes later before she finally calmed down enough to realize that she wasn't in New York anymore, and she didn't have to worry. She hadn't seen Devin in almost three months. Reaching a hand towards the side table she flicked on the switch to the table lamp that stood next to the bed and then flipped back the covers to her bed. Her hands lightly stroked the bump that was growing below her belly button. Her child, a child that she and a man she despised created, a child she couldn't bring herself to get arid of. It had been Stacie's first suggestion, being only three weeks pregnant, it was an easy solution to an unwanted problem, but Morgan couldn't bring herself to deal with it in that way. She and Devin had created it, and before it was even born, Devin had destroyed its life, along with her dreams.

Morgan's fingers traced random patterns across her skin as she lightly hummed a song to herself that she had heard on the radio earlier. It was dark and foreboding, something she'd felt a lot in the past few months. After a while she began to sing.

Never made it as a wise man,

Couldn't cut it as a poor man stealing,

Tired of living like a blind man,

I'm sick inside with out as sense of feeling,

And THIS is how you remind me of what I really am,

This is how you remind me.

Chapter 3: For a New Day

Morgan woke with the sun in her eyes. Blinking several times she let the stars recede from her sight before trying to identify where the hell she was. Looking around she quickly spotted the universal signs for being in a hokey hotel room. She decided that if anything those signs could be on Dave Letterman's Top Ten.

1. Your bedspread looks like it's from the seventies.
2. That rattling AC is a massive box under the window that should have been replaced the day it was installed.
3. There is mini everything in the room from soap, to shampoo bottles, towels, and …socks?
4. The ugly brown curtains don't match the stained bedspread.
5. There are Old Testament Bibles hidden all over the room, even next to the toilet paper holder. Is it there for a little light reading while on the can, or for an emergency, like having no toilet paper?
6. There's a mini fridge with a sign charging three bucks for a mini can of coke, five for one of those two ounce beers.
7. The surplus lamps, furniture and rug are something that even people who live in the street wouldn't want.
8. There's a telephone that is good only for that shitty room service, you have to use the payphone at the gas station across the street if you want to call out.
9. The bed is one of those coin operated vibrating ones that scared you to the point of sleeping in the only thing comfortable looking, the armchair by the midget sized bathroom.
10. The people having sex every two hours in the room next door to you keep waking you up, but you're scared to leave because of the owner asking if he could keep you company, and how much it would cost him.

Morgan groaned then let out a laugh at her own desperate citation. She never had been up to selling herself for sex, but how much better was a line of work where she was leery of her own coworkers? Maybe it was because she'd been behind the cameras, instead of in the movie, that low budget porn made her squeamish, and the idea of sex with just anybody put her off to the point of being sick.

"Shit!" She swore heatedly as she pounded her fist into the empty pillow by her head. "How the fuck am I going to find an apartment with no job, no money, and a dog?!" she asked the empty room.

Sighing heavily, she pulled herself out of her sense of doom and gloom, got out of the bed, showered, dressed, and got her small bag of possessions repacked before taking her room key and returning it to the front desk of the hotel.

Two hours later Morgan remembered seeing a small sign at some café and market, advertising the need for a part time employee. It took her another forty five minutes to locate the small building and with a dejected sigh, realized that it was closed. The small building had the name Torettos café and market artfully carved onto a sign above the entrance.

Leaving a small note stuck between the cast iron grating crisscrossing the entrance and the solid metal door behind it she walked back to her car. Sitting in the front seat Barren sat happy as a lark, and panting away in the midday heat. Pulling back her windblown hair from her face she was just getting into her GTO when a loud performance engine could be heard barreling down the street. A blue car came to a screeching stop at the entrance to the parking lot and the right hand side window rolled down exposing a familiar face.

"Well if it isn't a mystery lady!" He called out gaining Morgan's undivided attention.

Who's in the car? And what is Morgan going to do now? Check out chapter four for answers.