remember me ➳ troyler au // SECOND //

VI

Troye

13.01.15

12:16 p.m.

"No, not later. Now. How did I get these scars?" 

"You fell onto rock multiple times that they cut through your skin. They were sharp rocks, though. And you have dropped scissors on your forearm a few times. Sharp scissors, to be exact. And one time we were eating steak together and you dropped your knife onto your arm," he says, but it seemed like he was lying. I knew he was, actually. So, I decided to go with it.

"Oh, okay. That seems... hurtful. Are there any other ways? Because I know I haven't dropped scissors or knives on my arm about one hundred times, nor have I tripped over sharp rocks." 

"No, there aren't. Don't worry too much, Troye. Keep the bandage on it so it would heal faster," Zoe says. Tyler nods.

Then, the bell rings.

"Let's go," he says, grabbing onto my opposite arm.

3:45 p.m.

"Can you tell me about myself? Because I want to know so I can remember."

"Let's see... You're talented. You used to sing all the time and write amazing songs and you loved acting. You loved to play a piano and write songs on it," Tyler says. I smile and nod. So that's probably why I'm in drama.

"Also, Tyler. What did happen? I knew you were lying earlier about me tripping and dropping things onto myself causing the scars. I want to know. Just tell me—"

"I can't, Troye. I'm sorry." I frown. My phone buzzes once. I check it, seeing a text from my mum saying that she was here. I then shove my phone into my pocket.

"My mum's here," I say, angry. I then leave his house without saying goodbye.

14.01.15

9:32 a.m.

I decided to skip school today since I thought it was just a bit too much. I told my mum that I got angry at Tyler and she brought me to Starbucks. She left afterwards, though. I ordered a coffee this time. Then, I sat down at an empty table. There were no other tables or chairs or couches left.

"Hi, um, can I sit here for now?" I hear a British, feminine voice say. I look over and see a small girl with blue eyes and black hair. I nod. "Thank you so much," she says. She sits down at the empty seat across from me. Then, she finally spoke up. "Sorry to bother. It's just there's no empty spots left." I nod.

"It's totally fine, you know. Any time," I say, smiling. "I'm Troye, by the way," I say, introducing myself to her. I hold out my hand so she can shake it. And she does. Her hand was cold.

"Kyla," she says, shaking my hand. She puts her hand down and into her lap. "Where do you go to school? If you're still in school. I go to the one next to this coffee shop and I'm a senior."

"Me too! I haven't heard of you before, though."

"Me either. I usually don't hang around other people. I usually just sit in the library or class room or go out to McDonalds or something for lunch. I don't have that many friends, is what I'm trying to say."

"I don't have many friends either. I'm not sure who were my friends before since I got amnesia. It sucks. I basically have to start over my life. And I miss my friends."

"Oh. I'm sorry for you. Well, maybe we can be friends?"

"Yeah, that'd be great, ya know. Here," I say, taking out a small piece of paper. I write my number on it. "Here's my number. We can hang out one day?"