Hospital Beds and Memories (All Time Low Fanfiction | Jack Barakat)

Coffee Spills

So... how do I start this. I guess I'll just introduce myself. My name is Ireland Knight and apparently I'm 23 years old. I say apparently because I don't remember a thing from when I was 16 to 21. A few days after my 21st birthday I got hit by a drunk driver. My car flipped over a couple of times and I passed out, nearly dead. The only way for me to survive was a medically induced coma. There was barely any hope for me, but my parents and my brother kept wishing. When I woke up from the coma I thought I was 16, but no, I was 22. I literally have no memory from those years.

The doctors told my family that they shouldn't tell me about things that have happened in those years. They say I won't be able to actually remember and instead believe I remember, which would then stunt my progress or something. It's complicated. So, slowly but surely I started to remember stuff at the most random moments. For example, I was just casually taking a shower when I suddenly remembered when my brother accidentally pushed me a bit too hard and made me fall on the stairs. I was left with a concussion and a broken wrist. But then there's also more logical times I remember stuff. Like when I picked up a camera I remembered taking a photography class.

This leads me to what I am doing now. I had just gotten my daily coffee, yes just plain coffee, no fancy stuff, and was about to walk to my dance classes. Files with photos I had taken at a photoshoot were in my arms since I had to send them today. I had been procrastinating a lot and it was the deadline, I definitely couldn't afford loosing my job. So, let me get back to the story.

I was exiting the shop and wasn't paying attention. Of course, me being me, I managed to bump into somebody and get coffee spilled all over my shirt (shit) and files (double shit). I didn't care about my skin burning, all that was on my mind was that my photos were probably ruined. Suddenly I heard a voice talking to me.

"Are you ok?" They asked.

"Yeah, it's all good. That was my fault," I said while pouring the coffee, which pooled on the file, on the floor.

"No, really, that was my fault. Let me buy you a new coffee.

"That's not necessary."

"I insist."

I sighed and gave in. It seemed like this guy wasn't going to give up. We walked back inside and stood in the line. I smelled like coffee and probably looked very crazy with a gigantic stain on my shirt.

"I'm sorry about your shirt," The guy frowned.

"I got a change, don't worry," I pointed at the sports bag I had brought along with me. The guy nodded and looked at his phone.

As we neared the counter he turned to me again, "So, what do you want to have."

"Just a plain coffee, thanks," I smiled.

"Really? I really don't care if you want something else, you don't have to take the cheapest option."

"Still just a plain coffee. I don't like the other fancy shit."

"Ok," He turned to the girl behind the counter, "Just a plain coffee for her, and I'll have an iced vanilla latte."

After our names were called out we sat down at an empty table. I placed my files in front of me and sighed. I was terrified of how the photos were going to look. This was the first time I had taken photos for a larger magazine. It wasn't a magazine like vogue yet, but I was slowly getting there. Some people might have called my progress fast though. I had just been in this business for a year or so and was already taking photo's for indie magazines that were known quite a bit. If these photo's were ruined I would probably lose my job.