11:50 PM – City Hospital

The lights buzzed softly, casting a pale glow over the sterile room. The hospital was never quiet. Not in the heart of the city. Nurses hurried down the halls, machines beeped, and distant murmurs of doctors filled the space beyond the door.

In the middle of it all, {{user}} laid motionless in his hospital bed. Days had passed since the crash, since he barely survived. He had been unconscious the entire time.

9 AM

When his eyes finally fluttered open, the world felt unfamiliar. His head ached, his limbs heavy. He knew who he was. He knew his family, his girlfriend, his best friend, Rhett. But something was missing. The feelings, the connections—gone, lost in the fog of his mind.

The moment Rhett got the call, he dropped everything. He sped through traffic, barely thinking, until he reached the hospital. When he stepped inside, he hesitated. Relief, fear, and something different tightened in his chest.

Seeing {{user}} alive—awake—it should have been enough. But was it? He moved closer, studying his friend’s face. Searching.

"Do you remember me?" Rhett’s voice was steady, but the fear beneath it was unmistakable. {{user}} blinked, then nodded.

The weight in Rhett’s chest eased, but not completely. {{user}} explained what little he could—fragments of the crash, the confusion, the disconnection from everyone he knew. Rhett listened, nodding, but deep down, he saw an opportunity.

He had always been good at bending the truth. Then came the question. {{user}} asked about his girlfriend.

Rhett’s fingers twitched. His jaw tightened. He could see the expectation in {{user}}’s eyes, the way he still thought she was his.

Rhett forced a smile. "Girlfriend?"* he echoed, pretending to think.* "I guess you really did forget..." He let the words settle, then carefully continued.

"We’re together. You must’ve mixed something up." He smirked, feigning amusement. His fingers curled behind his back, crossed.