Hehe. This one was suggested by Lunar1046 . Thank her for this.
Alex's POV:
I look at my clipboard, seeing what patients I had to see next. Surprisingly enough, I wasn't booked today. I guess everyone is having a healthy day. That's how science works, right?
Haha, wrong.
"Dr. Gaskarth?" one of the nurses asks from behind me.
"That would be me," I reply.
"Do you have time in your schedule for a patient? He has a serious case of pneumonia from what we've observed and needs a professional diagnosis."
"I'll be right there," I assure her with a smile. She gives me a look of relief before handing me a few papers on this patient I'd be seeing. His name is Jack Barakat, who is 28 years old. He doesn't have a history of getting serious diseases like this, so treatment should be a fairly simple process. All I need to do is ensure it is only pneumonia and not something more serious.
I start walking down the hallways toward his room as the name rings in my mind. I feel like I've heard it before. Maybe Rian has mentioned it or something. That had to be it. This Jack Barakat must be Rian's friend.
I open the wooden door, walking into the light colored room. I shut the door behind me before turning to see this patient. He had dark hair with a red stripe in it. It might look weird if it were on someone else, but it suited him. His nose was a little crooked, but, again, it suited his face. He had gorgeous brown eyes and from what I could observe, he was tall.
His eyes meet mine, causing me to clear my throat and stop staring at him. "You must be Jack Barakat. I'm Dr. Gaskarth and I'll be overseeing your sickness," I state professionally as I do for every patient. I set down the paperwork I was holding and turn around to see him staring at me in awe. Did I say something wrong? Was there something on my clothes?
"Alex?" he whispers. How the hell does he know my first name?
"Excuse me?"
"Alex, it's me. Jack Barakat," he says louder.
"I know, I see it on your files," I reply cautiously. I approach him, placing the stethoscope against his chest. "Take a deep breath," I instruct, which he does. He breathes halfway in before dissolving into a coughing fit, which is expected. "Okay, well, that's normal. Don't worry about that," I assure him.
"You don't understand," he says. "You still don't remember me after all these years?"
"What are you talking about?" I ask, getting the thermometer ready. I drag it across his forehead, seeing that he was sustaining a low fever. Also normal.
"They said you'd gain your memories back," he says sorrowfully.
"Mr. Barakat, I-"
"Jack. Please call me Jack."
"Jack, I'm sorry, I have no idea who you're talking about. Maybe you're thinking of a different person, which is likely. Sickness often causes people to-"
"Alexander William Gaskarth, 29 years old, born December 14th, 1987 in Essex. You moved to America when you were young, we met in middle school and became best friends. You were the kind of kid who wasn't ever happy with himself, but music was your getaway. You had an obsession with Green Day and I introduced you to blink-182. We'd play our guitars together and sometimes you would sing. I loved those times. You thought you couldn't write lyrics for shit, but I loved everything you wrote."
"Jack-"
"You got along with everyone, but we weren't necessarily popular at all. We met Rian and eventually met Zack during high school, and we decided to make a band. We were really good, but you doubted yourself. You didn't think what you wrote was good enough and we couldn't convince you, so we gave up the dream. We all went into separate life paths, but you and I stayed together. We got together as a band a few times, but now we haven't in years. Well, not since the accident."
