I Prefer the Bad Boys

Don't You Remember?

I opened my eyes and saw a wall painted over with a cream colored paint. Wait, cream? My room isn't cream; it's (f/c). I looked at the soft surface I was on and realized it wasn't my bed. I was laying on my back, but I was facing the wall.

I turned my head to the ceiling and met a very bright light in my eyes. A dark blurry thing came to my view and turned off the light. I looked over at where the blur came from but my vision had little dot and was still very blurry.

It changed a bit but it didn't sound like it made a noise. It turned around and I heard muffled talking. I squinted and my vision finally focused on the person in front of me. It was a male and he had brown hair. He was still turned around and was wearing a dark blue, long sleeved shirt. In all honesty the only thing I really payed attention to was the scar behind his ear.

I blinked a few times and he turned back around. His hair looked kind of sloppy and his big, brown eyes look tired, but he smiled when he saw me. He had a really nice smile, but something was off about it. It wasn't fake, just...sudden and forced. He actually looked very grateful that I was up, but who was he.

"Y/N," he said, "you're finally awake!" He had a deep voice. It was rough and had a lot of emotion behind it.

He tried to hug me, but I back away. "Who are you?" I asked in a very raspy and weak voice.

He then got sad. It was obviously fake but that could just be his face.

"You don't remember me?" He asked.

I shook my head, "Should I?"

He sighed and nodded his head. Suddenly, another guy came up from behind. He had blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He had on a faded purple shirt and a dark green jacket hanging over it. He smiled too, but it was more on the thankful side than anything.

"Hey." He said sweetly. His voice wasn't too deep nor was it very high but it was so soothing. He could literally say he hated me and still make it sound like a nice thing.

"Hello?" I asked him.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"Why? Where am I and who are you people?" I asked. I tried to sit up, but my back and stomach just shot pain all the way through my body. I flinched and laid back down.

"The doctor said this was going to happen." The blonde said. He showed fake sadness too, but he seemed to feel...guilty?

"I'm Ryan." The brunette said, "We've been living together for six years." He sounded so fake but I don't know him, that could literally just be his voice.

"I'm Bryce." The blonde said, "You live with Ryan, and me, and David, and Scott-"

I shook my head, "I don't remember."

"Do you remember anything." Ryan asked.

I looked away and tried to dig through my memory. The only thing I can remember is my name, height, age, hair color, eye color, and skin color.

I shook my head and looked back, "My name is Y/n and I'm 26."

They looked down, upset. "Ryan, I think we should leave her alone to see if she can try and remember anything else." Bryce said, putting his hand on the sitting male.