MY NAME IS ALEX

IAN

She can't remember me. I don't know why I thought she would when she couldn't even remember her own name. It was stupid, but I had hoped that even with her disoriented brain, she would recognize me.

Because it's me. It's us.

She knows me better than I know myself. So, when she looked at me with those blank confused stares... I wasn't able to handle it well.

At first, I thought maybe she's faking it. It's not like Alex to make excuses for the crazy shits she's done, but it wouldn't be the first time she tries to get out of trouble by pretending either.

Then she apologized for not remembering. That's new. Alex never apologizes for anything. She wouldn't make excuses, but it'll take a lot for her to say sorry. So, when she apologized, it made me a little more certain that she wasn't faking it. She really can't remember.

She asked me who I am. I was dying to hug her and tell her I couldn't live with myself if something happened to her, but I wasn't able to move. She doesn't know me. She's Alex, but without her memory, she isn't my Alex.

I'll make sure she remembers. I'll make her remember. I promised.

I had to run to my part-time job from the hospital. I asked Eunice to cover for me for the first hour, but the girl has other part-time jobs to go to after the coffee shop. I couldn't be late or she'll have me pay her salary for the rest of the day. That girl is a money-making machine I won't be surprised if she becomes a millionaire someday.

I was heaving and out of breath when I finally reached the coffee shop. I still have five minutes left before the end of the hour. Eunice saw me and smirked. She was probably counting on me being late.

"I'm here," I announced, just in case her clock is still running.

"I can tell. Well done. Do you need me to give you a star?" she said sarcastically, as she took off her apron and went inside the staff room to change.

I shook my head. The girl can be mean like Alex. But then again, maybe that's why they clicked. I've been working with her for a year, and I still don't know how she can have five part-time jobs and still go to her extra Art classes. Eunice is so busy making money she doesn't have time being kind. I can understand her though. Not everyone has rich parents to support their studies.

"You going to another part-time job?" I asked as she started to get leave.

"Is there anything else I'd rather do?" she asked and smiled. I feel for the girl. She's been living on her own, trying to make ends meet as she supports herself with her studies.

I don't know a lot about Eunice aside from the fact that she came from Poland and was hired as a personal assistant of Oliver Taylor, the leader of the world-famous boyband Gambits during our freshman year. She was tasked to study with him and work for him while he's in school, an act he only does because the government requires minor artists to put in some hours in their studies.

Somehow though, the band disbanded a year later and Eunice lost her job but continued studying in AIA. She was able to get an Art scholarship because the girl is really talented in drawing and painting, although she doesn't really seem to care much about art.

I sighed. I might be on a sports scholarship, but at least I don't have to worry about feeding and clothing myself. My parents aren't rich, but we're not poor either.

My dad earns well enough in Montenegro Corp and my mom has her bakery. I don't really need to work, and I only do it because I don't like asking my parents for the extra expenses I chose to make outside of school.

Eunice's case is completely different. She relies on herself alone to pay all the bills and make sure she doesn't get hungry. That's a tough responsibility for an eighteen-year-old girl and she's been doing it since she was sixteen.

"Good luck." I found myself saying to her. She looked at me and smiled.

"No luck needed. How's Alex?" She asked as she clocked out.

"She's awake, but she couldn't remember anything yet." I answered.

"She'll get better." She said as she smiled and turn to get her bag from the chair nearby. The girl could be nice when she wants to.

"I hope so," I said, returning her smile.

"Good luck," she said, turning to leave.

"No luck needed," I assured her. Alex will remember me. One way or another, I'll get her memories back.