"Augh—"
The weight of the world presses down on me as I slowly open my eyes. My head throbs as if it's been like pummeled, and everything's fuzzy, like looking through frosted glass. I try to focus, but it's like there's a weight pulling me down. The ground beneath me is rough, earthy, grounding me just enough to realize I'm lying on dirt.
I force myself to stand, trying to make sense of my surroundings. My body protests as I push myself up, every muscle groaning in resistance. "What happened?" The question buzzes in my mind, unanswered and nagging, as my eyes dart around. The cold rain patters against my skin, each drop a tiny shock that brings me further back to reality.
The sky is dark. Tall trees loom around me, their branches twisted and ominous. There's a gaping hole in my chest, like something's amiss, but I can't figure out what. My gaze catches on something beside me—a man sprawled face down in the dirt. He's as still as a statue. I stare at the body, for a while and averted my gaze back to the sky. My thoughts crawling at a snail's pace. My hands hang limp at my sides, fingers cold and unresponsive, as if the connection between my mind and body has been severed.
Then, the man jolts. A shudder runs through his body, and I tense, heart pounding in my ears. He slowly gets to his feet, just as confused as I am. He's tall, with blonde hair that somehow catches the dim light, even in this gloom. There's a birthmark on his forehead, making him stand out more. His eyes are wide, searching, mirroring the uncertainty gnawing at me. A sharp pain twists inside me, a sudden stab that leaves me breathless. What is this feeling? It claws at my insides, inexplicable and fierce. The fog in my mind thickens as the man finally notices me. He waves a hand in front of my face, his voice a distant echo cutting through the haze.
"Hey… do you know where we are?" His smiles sheepishly. His tone is friendly, like he's trying to keep things casual despite the situation. He even smiles, scratching his head like he's embarrassed.
I just shake my head, my mind blank as if it's slipping away like sand through fingers. His gaze lingers on me, it's unbearable—his eyes, so full of life, seem to demand something from me, something I can't give. A prickling heat rises in my cheeks, and I look away, desperate to escape his scrutiny. Please, don't look at me like that!
My eyes flit around, searching for something—anything—to break the silence. Panic claws at the edges of my mind, making my breath quicken. He notices my discomfort and quickly raises his hands in a calming gesture. "Hey, no need to freak out. I'm not here to hurt you or anything…" His tone is gentle, like he's trying to coax a wary animal out of hiding.
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to speak. "I… I don't know. I just woke up like you did." The words come out in a rush, and I glance at him nervously, unsure of what he'll say next.
"Huh, well, it's definitely raining." He frowns, then later on smiled at me saying "Huh, how did we miss that? Haha," he laughs lightheartedly. For someone who just woke up lost and disoriented, he's surprisingly positive. Quite the character. Who is this guy?
"Let's get under that big tree," he suggests, pointing to the largest tree nearby. I nod, keeping my gaze down, and we both make a dash for it. We huddle beneath the tree, its branches offering slight protection from the downpour. The rain drums against the leaves, a relentless rhythm that drowns out the world. The tall guy breaks the silence beside me, asking, "By the way, what's your name?"
"My name—" The words catch in my throat. A cold void stretches in my mind where the answer should be. How? Why? What's going on? I freeze, staring at him, the silence between us thickening.
"I—" My voice falters.
"I don't know…"
"Wha—" He pauses, and then realization dawns on him. "I don't know my name either…"
An awkward silence wraps around us as the rain pounds down even harder. My mind is a whirlwind of questions. Why can't I remember anything? Who am I? My pulse races, echoing in my ears, a frantic rhythm that matches my mounting panic. I lean against the tree, trying to steady myself, and feel something cool against my wrist. A bead bracelet, foreign and familiar at once, dangles from my left arm. How did I not notice this?
The other guy spots it too, his eyes narrowing as he leans in to inspect it. A name is etched into the beads.
"Max," I murmur, the name slipping out before I can question it.
His face lights up, an unguarded smile breaking through the confusion. "That must be your name!" He says it like it's the best news he's heard all day.
Max? Is that really me? The name feels like a shirt that's a bit too tight, uncomfortable and unfamiliar, but it's the only thing I've got to hold onto.
"I guess so..." The words are heavy, like lead in my mouth.
He chuckles. "You're so quiet, man. Is it just the rain, or are you always like this?" His optimism is a stark contrast to the storm inside me. How can he be so calm? So… cheerful?
I keep quiet, eyes fixed on the ground, the rain's chill seeping into my bones. I hear him sighs, the sound almost defeat, like he's already resigned himself to my silence. Despite everything, there's something comforting about his presence, something warm.
Suddenly, I bravely face him lifting up my face and asked- "Are you always this positive?" curiosity getting the better of me.
"Like what?" he replies, his tone tinged with genuine surprise.
"I don't know… just happy, I guess. Even when things are bad."
Before he can answer, a siren slices through the air, a piercing wail that makes me flinch. The sound is so loud, it feels like it's drilling into my skull. He reacts just as suddenly, eyes wide as he looks around, and we exchange a panicked glance. What is that?
The siren grows louder, closer, sending a jolt of fear through me. We don't speak—we just grab each other's hands and run. The forest blurs around us, branches slashing at our clothes, mud splattering as we race through the undergrowth. My breath comes in ragged gasps, heart pounding in time with our frantic footsteps. We burst onto a road, the sight of a town ahead like a beacon of hope. Relief washes over me, and I realize I'm still gripping his hand. He doesn't seem to mind.
The siren's wail fades as we reach the pavement, rain pouring down in sheets, the sky a dull, oppressive gray. Up ahead, I spot a coffee shop, glows in the grayness. It looks safe, warm, like a sanctuary from this nightmare.
"Hey, I think we should head to that café," I say, my voice strained but determined.
He nods, and without another word, we make a beeline for the coffee shop.
As soon as we entered through the door, the relentless downpour outside was replaced by the warm embrace of the café's air. It wrapped around me like a comforting blanket, chasing away the chill that had settled deep in my bones. My body, previously tense and heavy, started to relax as the warmth seeped in. The soft glow of the pendant lights overhead provided a welcome contrast to the gray, stormy skies we had just escaped.
The exposed brick walls felt both sturdy and reassuring, like a protective barrier against the turmoil outside. Black-and-white photographs lined the walls in neat rows, most of them depicting people, their faces lit up with smiles, sharing moments of joy. I walked over to them, as if the frames were pulling me, screaming for me to come closer. When I finally reached them, there was one picture of a man in a boat, holding up a massive fish, his expression a mix of pride and excitement. There were also two kids playing in the mud, and the frames had text etched onto them, resembling names. "Lucas," I read on the latter picture. The name continued to linger on my lips. The simple frames drew my eyes to scenes that exuded a strange calm and nostalgia.
However, it was the paintings that truly caught my attention—abstract and mysterious, their swirling colors and shapes captivated me. But one particular painting drew me in, more than the others. It wasn't the colors or the brushstrokes, though they were beautiful in their own right. No, it was the hands—two of them—locked together, fingers intertwined with a quiet intimacy. There was something gentle, almost tender, in the way one hand rested on the other, as if to say, "I've got you." The delicate tension, the subtle pressure of the grip, spoke of a bond that needed no words. It wasn't just a casual touch; it was a promise. Looking at it, I could almost feel the warmth radiating between them, the silent understanding, the unspoken trust. There was a softness, captured in the simple act of holding on. And for a moment, it felt like the whole world fell away, leaving just that—their connection, and the space between everything else.
My eyes lingered on them, drawn in by their beauty, while the dark leather seats nearby looked so inviting, as if they were offering me a moment of peace.
Rain continued to lash against the large window at the back of the café, each droplet racing down the glass, blurring the view of the world outside. The sign above the window—"Follow Your Heart"—glowed softly. Beyond the window, the street seemed muted and distant, as if it belonged to a different time, softened and blurred by the relentless rain. A small smile tugged at my lips, the tranquility of the moment settling into my bones. It was nice—the atmosphere, the quiet, the peace. A part of me wished this moment could last forever.
I was so absorbed in the atmosphere that I didn't notice the guy I was with had been gazing at me. "So, you do smile?" he teased, his tone playful. Embarrassed, I quickly hid my face in my hands and turned away, feeling the heat rising to my head. "No…" I mumbled; my voice barely audible. His laugh, light and easy, filled the air as he moved toward the counter. I followed him, feeling a bit like a lost puppy, drawn along by his energy. The barista, busy with her work, glanced up just as we approached. Her eyes widened as she took in our appearance, water dripping from our clothes onto the floor.
"Hello there, what can I do for you two?" she asked, her tone polite but laced with concern. Then, her eyes widened further. "Oh my, you guys are soaking wet!" Without waiting for a reply, she hurriedly disappeared into the staff room, saying over her shoulder, "Wait here, I'll grab something to dry you off."
The guy beside me wandered over to the window, his gaze fixed on the rain outside. His usual optimism seemed dampened by the weather, his frown deepening as he crossed his arms over his chest, his brows furrowed in thought. I stood there, hesitating, feeling the familiar weight of shyness pulling me back. My palms clenched against my chest as I debated whether to approach him.
Finally, I gathered the courage to move closer, standing beside him. He sensed my presence and quickly uncrossed his arms, his hand moving to the back of his head in a familiar gesture of uncertainty. My own fingers mirrored the motion, nervously scratching behind my ear as heat rose to my cheeks. The silence between us grew, thick with unspoken thoughts, the only sound the steady drumming of rain against the glass.
I opened my mouth, the words hesitant, almost swallowed by the quiet. "What are you thinking?" I asked, the question laced with the vulnerability I tried so hard to hide.
"Nothing, I just don't like the rain," he grumbled, and sighs huffily. The gloom outside seemed to clash with his usual sunny demeanor, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at the rain-soaked window. His shoulders slightly slumped as he crossed his arms again.
Trying to lighten the mood, I offered, "Although, sometimes it does make you feel calm." My words hung in the air for a moment, and he hummed before turning to look at me, a faint smile breaking through the clouds of his mood.
"Yeah, sure," he replied, the smile reaching his eyes as if he appreciated the attempt. I smiled back, but then something sparked in my memory.
"Hey, about the question earlier…" I began, only for him to cut in with a teasing glint in his eyes.
"Heh, are you interested in me?" he teased, his playful tone matching the grin on his face. My cheeks heated slightly at his arrogance, and I snorted in disbelief.
"Really now?" I retorted, raising an eyebrow. He chuckled, the sound easy and infectious.
"Haha, just teasing," he said, slipping back into his usual optimism. "Well, it's just that no matter what happens in life, you've got to stay positive. If you keep thinking negatively, you'll get stuck, and nothing will change."
"I see," I replied, the words settling in as I pondered them.
Just then, the barista burst out of the staff room, holding a couple of towels. "Here you go!" she said with a warm smile, handing them to us. I muttered a quick thank you, and bow down a little, grateful for the small kindness. She gestured toward the nearest table, inviting us to sit.
We took our seats, the café's warmth seeping into us as we settled in. "Do you guys want anything?" she asked, her tone as cheerful as her demeanor.
"Hot chocolate!" the other guy exclaimed, his eyes lighting up at the thought. The barista nodded happily and then turned to me.
"Just a black coffee, please," I said, my voice steady.
"Alrighty!" she chirped, heading off to prepare our drinks.
A few moments later, she returned with our drinks and sat down beside us, her presence comforting and familiar. She was a woman with kind eyes that had a way of making you feel at ease. Her hair was pulled back into a loose bun, and a few strands of gray peeked through, adding a touch of wisdom to her warm appearance. She had the look of someone who had seen much but still found reasons to smile.
I reached for the coffee, the warmth of the cup spreading through my cold fingers like a lifeline. The first sip was like a shock to my system—bitter and strong, yet grounding. The taste of the black coffee was deep and rich, each sip enveloping my senses with its earthy, slightly burnt flavor. It wasn't the best coffee I'd ever had, but in that moment, it was exactly what I needed.
"So, what's your name, young men?" she asked, her gaze curious and kind. "By the way you can call me Angie."
"Max," I answered automatically, then glanced over at the other guy. His expression shifted as realization dawned.
"I-I don't know," he stammered, the uncertainty clears in his voice. I added quickly, "Me either. Max is just the name we found on my bracelet," I said, holding up my wrist to show her.
She nodded slowly, a knowing sigh escaping her lips. "I guess you two also…"
"About what?" we both asked in unison, leaning in slightly.
"Not knowing your names," she said, her voice tinged with the weight of shared experience.
"You too?" we exclaimed together, surprise coloring our voices.
"Yes, 'Angie' is just what I chose," the barista confirmed, her voice gentle, yet her eyes reflecting a story we had yet to uncover. Lines creased around them, hinting at years of experience, or maybe exhaustion. Her late 30s were evident in the way she carried herself—a mix of warmth and weariness.
"You're not the only ones who don't know your names," she continued. "Everyone in this town has forgotten who they are. What we were before… it's all just gone." Her words settled over us like a heavy blanket, and I felt the weight of this strange reality pressing down even more. "I'm guessing you just woke up somewhere, completely lost?" she asked, leaning forward with a sympathetic look.
Lucas and I nodded instantly, a shared confusion binding us together. A wave of relief, oddly comforting, rolled over me. At least we weren't alone in this bizarre mystery. I furrowed my brows, feeling the weight of it all. My lips quirked to the side, and I rested my chin on my right hand. What was happening to us?
"Although we've tried to figure out who we are, it's pointless," Angie sighed. Her hands fiddled with the towel in her lap, and I noticed a slight tremble in them, like someone who's been asking the same question for far too long without finding an answer.
"Is this the only town?" I asked, my curiosity surfacing again.
"I don't know," she replied, her voice soft but certain. "No one dares to leave this place yet."
"Then where is everybody?" Tall guy chimed in, his voice breaking the contemplative silence.
Before she answered, Angie paused, her eyes twinkling with an idea. "Wait, before we go on, let's give you a name to call for now. What do you think?"
The tall guy leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping absentmindedly on the table. His brows furrowed as his eyes traced patterns on the ceiling. "Hmm…" he hummed, deep in thought. Angie glanced down at the table, her hands pressed against her lips, clearly trying to come up with something. I looked over the café once again, my eyes wandering for something he could use for a while. I saw the frames again, and I remembered.
"Lucas," I said aloud.
I heard a sudden shift. Lucas and Angie both seemed to react, as if the name had struck a chord.
"That's a beautiful name," Tall guy murmured, his voice softer than usual.
"Agreed," Angie chimed in, her eyes smiling.
The former let out a chuckle, his mood noticeably lifted. "I like it. You can call me Lucas for now," he said, satisfaction in his tone.
I smiled slightly, though a small pang of envy twisted in my chest. I liked that name, too. But it was his now.
"Alright then, Lucas and Max," Angie confirmed, leaning back into her chair. The names felt odd, as if they didn't fully belong to us, but they were something to hold onto.
Lucas broke the silence again. "So, where is everyone?"
Angie glanced at the window, the rain still streaking down the glass, distorting the outside world. "It's midnight. Everyone's asleep," she said simply.
My lips quirked up at the corner. A café open at midnight? It seemed oddly fitting for a place like this. "Is this café always open like 24/7?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me once again.
"I know it's strange," Angie admitted with a small laugh. "But I love this café. It's become part of me. I can't imagine ever closing it."
Lucas raised an eyebrow. "How do you sleep then?"
Angie stood up, brushing her hands off on her apron, clearly signaling the end of the conversation. "Well, it's midnight, and you two should get some rest. We'll talk more in the morning." She began walking towards the stairs, motioning for us to follow. "Lucky for you two, I have a room upstairs you can use for now."
Before either of us could get a word in, she was already hustling us up the staircase, her quick steps leaving no room for argument. "Come on, no dilly-dallying! Rest is what you need," she said, not giving us a chance to react. Her pace was so fast that by the time I opened my mouth to protest, she was already halfway down the hall, pointing to the door of the room.
Just as she turned to head back downstairs, she called out over her shoulder, "Oh, by the way—sorry! I don't have any clothes that'll fit you both, so you'll have to dry your clothes for now in the bathroom!"
I stared after her, blinking. Lucas let out a low groan beside me. "Great, just great," I muttered under my breath.