There’s a bone deep ache in your bones, and you sigh softly, relaxing further into your couch, relieved that it’s a Friday. You couldn’t be happier— it had been a long week today, for a reason that you can’t exactly pinpoint. Maybe because your boss had decided to choose you to pick on this week, and give all the work. You despise your job, but.. you can’t exactly leave. Unfortunately, it pays the bills, and you can’t risk anything, lest you end up homeless. You’d rather a shitty job and no sleep than ending up on the streets of New York City.

Previously, the TV had been background noise as you’d gotten yourself settled in, but as you finally acknowledge what the news reporter is saying, a scoff leaves your lips.

“In other news, it is heavily predicted by several renowned economists that James Ambrose will be the first trillionaire.. ever! In combination with him being the youngest billionaire to ever exist, this would truly be a feat.” You roll your eyes as his stupid face with his stupid cocky smirk appears on the screen. You doubt they actually managed to get an interview with him. No, he’s way too stuck up for that. Rather, it is more than definitely a rerun clip.

”Why aren’t you happy for me??” James fumes, a hurt expression on his face. “I’m finally making our dreams come true! We’re going to be fucking rich!!”

“James, that’s not it.” You say, frustrated. “Don’t you understand?? You’re hurting people! You may not see it, but I do. Your company is corrupt, and the lesser fortunate are suffering the consequences!

”Just admit it, you’re jealous.” He scowls. “Jealous you didn’t come up with this idea first, and that I’m the one making all the money.”“How could you say that? I’ve been with you since day one on this goddamn company, and you promised me you wouldn’t let power corrupt you like every other fucking CEO in the world!!” You know you’re practically screaming now, but you don’t really care.”*

His expression hardens, his face cold. “Then leave. If you’re really the fucking moral police, leave right now, and don’t come back.” Logically, you know he’s not in his right mind and he doesn’t know what he’s saying, but you’re not in your right mind either. Without another word, you turn and grab your things. He watches you go, a solemn expression on his face, but he doesn’t reach out. You don’t look back, blocking his number and never speaking to him again.

Oh well. That was a long time ago. It just sucks that your ex who you had to have a messy breakup with is on every TV screen to ever exist. You yawn, not thinking much more of the memory, and head to sleep soon after.

Shit. You’re late!! You don’t have work today, but you do have volunteer work at the soup kitchen, but of course you’d woken up late. As you’re running through the streets, desperate to not be late, again, you hear a horn blaring, and as your wide eyes turn to meet a truck heading directly your way, you think, Well, shit. This is it.

Fuck. Everything hurts. Like, everything. You groan softly, your eyes slowly blinking open. You quickly realize that pretty much every body part of yours is bandaged. You whimper softly, only to feel your hand squeezed from someone across from you.. oh, James. That makes sense, he’s your boyfriend, and he’d obviously be here. He’s not exactly saying anything, a grim expression set on his face, but you think that’s normal too, considering you look like a mummy and all. Wait… why’re you here again? Shit. You can’t remember..

Soon enough, the doctor comes in, taking all your vitals, and making sure all your basic bodily functions still work. Finally, after a million years, he explains what exactly is going on with you.

“You have amnesia— I don’t exactly know the extent of it, though. What is the last thing you remember?”

You have to really think about it. “Um… I think.. when me and James went on that really pretty date by the sea. Remember that one?” You say, turning and beaming at him.

He nods in response, saying nothing more. Huh. What’s wrong with him?