The man wearing a lot of pink and blue perks up the moment you walk into the room. "The little darling is so pretty, Al!" He says in a British accent as he turns to look at Al. You blush slightly at the kind comment. 'This one must be Oliver,' you think to yourself. "Ay, you want some food?" Matt asks you, nodding to an empty chair next to Oliver. "Uh, yeah. Thanks," you reply. Al walks you over to the two empty chairs next to each other. One plate is full and the other one is partially eaten. Al and you sit down, you next to Oliver, he is next to the man with the French accent. "We're having a vegetarian dinner tonight, dearie," Oliver smiles at you and says in a happy tone. "Thanks for the food," you say to Oliver in a quieter, less enthusiastic voice. "Oh! I almost forgot," Al begins, "This is Oliver." He points at the man on your other side. He doesn't know that you already know his name. "This is Francis." He points at the man next to him. He looks a little grubby. He has a cigarette and you don't think he's slept in a few days. "And this is my brother, Matt." "It's nice to meet you guys," you say quietly, looking around the group. "Well, what's your name, poppet?" Oliver asks you. Oh yeah, no one knows your name. Not even Al. At least you don't think he does. You still can't remember much. Wait. What is your name? Doesn't it start with a D? Or maybe an A? Oh yeah, it's (y/n). "I'm (y/n)," you answer after a moment. "It's nice to meet you, (y/n)! You can call me Ollie if you want," Oliver, or, Ollie, says with a big smile. "Okay... Ollie," you say with a small smile. He seems extremely happy that you used his nickname. He has an unnaturally big smile on his face. Now that you're looking closer, you can see freckles peeking out from behind makeup. 'Why would he want to hide them?' You think. You, personally, think that they're really adorable with his big blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair. "Hey, (y/n), mind if I have a word with the guys for a minute?" Al asks you, snapping your attention away from your thoughts. "Uh, yeah. Sure," you say as you stand up. "Why don't you go back to my room until I come to get you?" Al requests more than asks. "Okay," you agree as you hard back into the hallway. You're halfway back to Al's room when you hear them start to talk. "Guys, I really need your help here. She doesn't know what happened. She can hardly remember her own name," Al says in a hushed voice. This makes you stop walking. Your eyebrows scrunch in suspicion as you turn your ear to the conversation. You take a few steps back so you're four feet away from the opening to the kitchen. "Well, her head did get hit pretty hard," you hear Matt say. Your head got hit? By what? "Shut up! Well, she can't find out what happened. You know what'll happen if she does," Al says even quieter than before. Francis 'mhmms' in agreement. "Indeed. I can't let that happen to you, Al. What will we do with the poor dear?" Oliver asks in a hush. Wait, what will happen to Al if you find out? Find out about what? Jeez, you're hopelessly confused. "I don't know!" Al sounds worried as he whispers. "We'll have to keep her here. Not let her know about anything before this happened." Before what happened? You decide to go back to Al's room before someone notices you spying on their conversation. You tiptoe to Al's room and slip in the crack between the door and he doorframe. You make your way to Al's bed and you sit down. The muffled conversation continues in the kitchen, but you can't make anything out anymore. Soon enough, you hear the voices stop, and there are footsteps in the wooden-floored hallway coming towards you. Al steps into the room and holds out a hand to you. "You have questions, right, doll?" He asks as his hand extends closer to you. You nod your head and slowly put your palm into his. He turns and you walk back down the hall. 'He makes a lot of noise when he walks,' you think, looking down at his feet. You notice that he's wearing combat boots. 'Oh,' you think as you lift your head back up. You enter the kitchen again and Al motions for you to sit back down. You do, and he sits down next to you. "So, what do you want to know, poppet?" Ollie asks in his cheery voice. "Well, how do I know you guys? And for how long? And how did I get here? Don't I go to school somewhere? Or do I have a job? Am I dating Al? Or any of you? Why does my head hurt? How come I can't remember my last name anymore? What am I doing here again? Why can't I remember anything, actually? Why are you all looking at me weird?" Your questions spill out one after another. The men in the room are giving you strange looks. Ollie is still smiling, but he's obviously stunned at all the questions. Al and Matt look really confused, and ever since you asked if you were dating Al, he's been blushing slightly. The French one, Francis, hardly changed his expression, but his eyes show his emotions. "What? Too much to ask at once?" You ask again. You had gone from very quiet and uncomfortable to loud and totally calm around these people that you don't know. Or don't think you know. Who knows? Certainly not you. "Well, uh, you and I... We know each other beca-... Hey, Oliver, why don't you answer these?" Al manages to spit out. "Okay. Well, poppet, you and I like to bake cupppycakes together. Matt and you go hiking and hunting. Francis and you sit together and, well, not talk. And you and Al are best friends, darling," Ollie answers calmly with a smile. 'Seems legit,' you think to yourself. "Ah, so I do know all of you. Where do I live?" You ask as you tilt your head to the side slightly. "Your room is the very last door in the hallway, dear. It's the one straight back," Oliver answers your question. "Oh, really? Can I go there and try to collect some memories?" You ask with a newly found smile. "Sure, babe," Al answers, using his hands to gesture you to go. You get up from your seat and walk into the hallway. You notice that your steps are like a feather in the wind compared to Al's heavy steps. You stop in front of the very last door in the hall. You look left and Al's door is next to yours. Across the hall, or to your right, is Ollie's room with the baby blue door. Your hand touches the cold doorknob leading to your room. You slowly twist the knob and walk in, leaving the door open behind you. "How did you answer those questions so calmly, Oliver?" Matt asks in a whisper, leaning over the table to Ollie. "I just thought of the extra help the sweet little poppet can give me while making my special cupppycakes," Oliver replies, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Oh, fuck no! You are NOT turning her into your cupcakes," Al whisper-shouts so you can't hear him. You're in your room, or, the spare room they had in the house, so you can't hear him anyway. "Tsk, tsk. You know not to swear, Allen. That'll be twenty five cents to the jar when we get up from the table," Oliver scolds Al for his inappropriate language. "I don't care about the stupid change, Oliver! You're not allowed to do anything to her. I shouldn't even let you be in the same room as her!" Al uses a slightly louder voice this time, standing up as he speaks. "Now, why would I do such a thing to the dear poppet? I like this girl. She called me Ollie," Oliver smiles and blushes at the fact that you are the only one to use his nickname. "You better not," Al gives him a death stare as he sits back down. "So, how're we gunna keep this secret from the girl?" Matt asks no one, yet everyone. "Just, don't let her leave. If she gets her memory back, we're screwed. She'll definitely rat us out to the cops if she does," Al replies, with a sense of seriousness in his voice. "So, keep 'er here?" Francis asks, pulling a cigarette out from his shirt pocket, then lighting it. "Exactly. I'll take care of her, but we all have to remember the lies we told her and stick to them. Maybe she'll never remember about her old life, and only have memories that we gave her," Al says. Al is definitely the leader for the solution of the problem. "So, do you like her? Is that why we're keeping her instead of killing her, Al?" Matt asks with a smirk coming across his face. "No! Don't be stupid!" Al exclaims, a small blush creeping it's way across his face. 'Well, she's not ugly... Who am I kidding? She's the most beautiful girl I've ever met. And she's not scared of me. And she helped me, even when I tried to steal from her. God, I really like her..." Al thinks. His smile must be creeping into his face, or Matt can read his mind because Matt smiles. "Ooh, Al has a crush!" Matt says in a teasing voice. "I do not!" Al protests. "Back to the topic at hand. Al, go check on the doll. She's probably getting bored looking at her room," Oliver ends the argue meant with a kind smile. Al walks out and sees your room door halfway open. He steps in and you're laying on your bed. Sleeping. He can't help but smile at the sight. Your hair falls around your face so perfectly, making you look even more beautiful than normal. "Damn, that's cute," Al whispers as he stands in the doorway to your room. He turns off the light and shuts the door. 'I'll see you on the morning, doll," Al thinks as he walks away, allowing you to rest.