~ happy birthday to that gay, sweaty sock, gerard trash way. thanks for ruining my life and not releasing US tour dates, bud ~
*Ellie's POV*
"So," I start, causing Andy to turn back to me. "You're my boyfriend, huh?" His cheeks reddened and I laughed, saying, "Why don't you just tell me how you know me, and then we'll get to that part."
"W-Well, we've known each other since we were born, practically," he started. He shifted in his seat, but I noticed he never let go of my hand. I didn't find it weird or uncomfortable, however. I felt strangely safe when he was near. I snapped out of looking at his fingers back to his face as he continued, "Our moms made sure we lived next to each other, so we got to see each other every day. We weren't exactly popular in school; we were the only kids that didn't listen to the Top 40 hits, and everybody thought it was weird when we hadn't heard the new Brittany Spears album or the new N'Sync song. We didn't have any other friends, just each other."
"Wow," I mutter, running a hand through my hair. "We must be really close, then."
"Yeah, we were," Andy said, but he looked down as he said the next part. "We were, but right before we started sophomore year, my dad got a new job in a different city. We had to move, and it absolutely sucked. I ended up not telling you until the day we had to leave. You didn't take it very well, believe it or not." He smiled to himself, but it faded from his face pretty quickly. "Yeah, the rest of high school was not fun all by myself. I don't think anybody there had an inkling of compassion, or, at least, they never showed it to me. You told me when we met again that it was basically the same for you."
"When did we meet again?" I asked. Everything he was saying sounded so familiar, and it made me angry that I couldn't remember it. It's like the feeling when you recognize a voice in a movie, but you can't place their name for the life of you. This feeling was multiplied by about a thousand, mind you, considering this was almost my entire life we're talking about.
"Well, we got a call one day from management about a new tour. Dr. Weekes told you about our bands, right?" Andy asks. I nod, and he continues, "So, we go to a restaurant to plan the tour and meet with the band we would be touring with, Royal Roses. I'm surprised I didn't recognize you from when we first looked you guys up; I guess I wasn't paying too much attention. But that day, you told me your name and it clicked. I realized I had you back. That you were physically there, in my arms again. I was so happy, I thought it was a dream."
I didn't realize I was crying a little until I sniffed and a tear rolled down my cheek. Andy looked up at me and gasped slightly, instantly raising his free hand to wipe it away with his thumb.
"I'm sorry, Andy," I whimper. "I'm sorry I can't remember anything. You seem so great and I feel so terrible for forgetting you." The tears began flowing more frequently.
All he did was gather me into his arms and held me tight against him.
"It's ok. Ellie, it's ok, it's not your fault. It's not your fault at all." he cooed into my ear. My breathing shook and rattled, but somehow calmed with his arms around me.
"Did we do this a lot?" I asked him, sniffing again.
Andy chuckled slightly, saying, "Yeah, you had a lot of anxiety attacks and this was how you would calm down. I'm not gonna lie, it made me feel a little better, too."
I smiled and closed my eyes.
"Good."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eventually, Dr. Weekes decided I would be stable enough to have my other friends in the room. Almost as soon as he opened the door, three girls and four guys streamed in and questions were thrown into the air like flies.
"Are you ok?"
"How are you feeling?"
"Do you have amnesia?"
"Do you remember us?"
"Quick, how many fingers am I holding up?"
"Taylor, I don't think you get what amnesia means-"
"Shut up."
"Yes, please do," Dr. Weekes said from behind them. "Ms. Ellie is clearly not feeling too well, and you bunch bombarding her with stupid question is not helping."
A collective sigh of 'Sorry, Ellie' filled the room, which only made giggle.
"Well, to answer some of those questions; yes, I'm fine, yes, I have amnesia, no, I don't remember you guys, it's all very fuzzy and I'm sorry. Could you maybe sit down and help me remember?"
Their faces turned worried and sad, but they grabbed chairs and dragged them over to my bed.
The girl to my immediate left had long, brown hair, with all of it swept over right shoulder. She had a cute, little nose that had a hoop piercing, and parts of her eyebrow was shaved. She was short and skinny, but I could already tell she was lively and bouncy.
"I'm Lynn," she says. "I play the drums for our band, and I met you in biology, junior year. We hit it off when we agreed that our teacher looked like a very old Mark Hoppus."
There were two men sitting next to Lynn. They both had long, black hair and looked pretty buff and kind of scary-looking.
The one directly next to Lynn says, "I'm Jake, I'm one of the guitarists for Black Veil Brides. This is Jeremy, but we all call him Jinxx." Jake gestures to the man next to him, who smiles and sends a small wave. "He's the other guitarist. I think the first thing you said to the two of us is that we look like the kind of guys who works out a lot and owns a farm of pit bulls and pugs. You were not wrong." I let out a laugh at this; I could imagine the two of them surrounded by dogs in a barn too well.
The girl next to Jinxx had short, red hair and freckles sprinkled across her face. She was taller than Lynn, but she still seemed very short.
"I'm Jenna, I'm one of the guitarists for our band. I believe we met when I ran into and made you drop your books. I complemented you on your My Chemical Romance shirt and we had the next class together, so we walked and bonded there together."
I nodded and looked to the man next to her. He practically oozed 'fuckboy'. He had shoulder-length blackish brown hair, which was topped with a wide-brimmed fedora hat thing. He had a very sharp, angular face, his cheekbones standing out even more than Andy's.
"Yeah, I'm Ashley. I'm the bassist for BVB and I am obviously the hottest one," he states cockily. I scoff and roll my eyes, copying almost everybody else. Jenna just shrugged and nodded her head.
The last girl next to Ashley had straight, blonde hair that went about halfway down her back. She seemed to look the most worried, for her eyebrows had stayed scrunched up the entire time she was in the room.
"Um, I'm Taylor, the bassist for our band. Our English teacher paired us up for a paper, and we wrote about how impactful music is on the world. We didn't get a very good grade, and when we presented it, almost all the popular guys whispered 'emo trash'. We weren't offended, we just laughed and agreed with them." This made everybody laugh, as well, but Taylor just smiled slightly.
The man next to her had long, black hair with a bandana wrapped around his forehead. He was holding Taylor's hand under the railing, trying to be subtle, but I could still see it.
"I'm Christian, but everybody calls me CC. I'm the drummer for BVB. When I first told you my name, you told me about your first goldfish named CC and how it died because it got sucked up into the filter and got all blended up. You said you just poured out the water and secretly got a new fish and didn't tell anybody about it for months."
Everybody laughed, and it set off the most random conversation I've been in.
"You guys seem so amazing. I'm so sorry I don't remember you guys, I feel terrible." I say when the talking died down.
"Oh, stop it, it's not your fault your brain got a little messed up," Lynn said, who lightly slapped my forearm.
"I know, I just feel so bad. I'm trying so hard, my head hurts." I mutter.
I hear a sharp intake of breath and look up to see tears spilling over the edges of Taylor's eyes. She let out, "Alright, I'm going in." and practically launched herself at me. Soon, everybody had jumped on me to form a crushing dog pile. I turned my head to make eye contact with Andy, who was the only one not piled on top of me. He smirks slightly, then leans over and plants a small kiss on my forehead. I smile a little, but was interrupted by Dr. Weekes opening the door and requesting everybody left. They all let out distressed sighs, but slid off my bed and walked out the door. Andy gave my hand one last squeeze and followed suit.
The doctor went to my little IV stand and inserted a syringe, releasing a new medicine into the stream. My eyelids soon became very heavy and I yawned. Re-meeting my friends must have taken a toll on me. I drifted off to a dreamless sleep, my hand cold and empty.