There might have been times when Evan would have begged for a few more days off work, but now he didn't know what to do with those two weeks he'd been given due to disability after the accident, which, to him, were more like a vacation under strange circumstances.
He started to walk around his house, and everything seemed familiar, but his heart seemed to play against him when he saw among his things small details that were clearly from "that boy". Photographs of him and that black-haired boy, hugging or smiling; rings with strange gems he didn't recognize; clothes that weren't his own… And so, the list went on.
Applying his knowledge of psychology, it was clear that these gifts were from a boyfriend in a relationship that went beyond just friendship. Clearly, he had a boyfriend, and that boyfriend was a certain Liam, a boy a little younger than him and a science lover.
However, he couldn't remember anything. He felt like an intruder in his own home.
He remembered absolutely nothing about the boy in the pictures, except for the day before, when he'd thrown himself at him so dramatically in the hospital. According to Kyle, his name was Liam —Liam Stone—, but he'd forgotten to ask for other details, such as his age, occupation, and residence. He could wait for the amnesia to pass, if he was lucky, and then remember everything naturally, or he could move on with his life. If he didn't remember the events of the last year, then he could pretend they'd never happened. But something inside him wouldn't let him continue with the uncertainty of not knowing who that boy was, even though it seemed like their relationship wasn't public in the media, as only his best friend and manager knew about him.
He knew what he was going to do was illogical, as he doubted that Liam was someone famous like him. He opened his phone's search browser and typed "Liam Stone" into the search bar. To his surprise, several articles about the boy came up. "The robotics prodigy enters Harvard to study medicine." If he scrolled further down, he found posts from years ago showing that same boy, much younger than him, still a toddler, participating in robotics competitions and winning big prizes from a very young age. He graduated with honors with a bachelor's degree in chemistry at 18 and earned a full scholarship to study medicine at Harvard.
What a kid. It seems that Liam is a genius.
Who does all that at 20? I'm 24 and barely manage to survive as an upcoming actor, and this guy is studying at Harvard on a scholarship and is recognized by many academics.
Instead of clearing his doubts, he only became even more curious. Now he wanted to see that boy and see if he was really as smart as all those articles said about that boy.
Now, he wanted to meet Liam; he really wanted to meet him.
Would it be a good idea to send him a message and ask if they could talk so they could get to know each other again? Or was it better to ask Kyle to help him as a go-between to meet him? He didn't know what to do. He had Liam's contact information on his cell phone, so he could even call him, but he didn't dare to do that, especially considering the messages from just a few days ago with a closeness they didn't have now.
He didn't know what to do.
It was barely his first day off, and he already felt incredibly bored and anxious. Every time he was doing nothing, anxiety began to overwhelm him like a fire spreading throughout his being. Just thinking about the face he'd make in front of his new colleagues, arriving on set days later, pretending not to have amnesia, made him nauseous. He'd have to act double duty, but not like he always did. Instead, he'd have to walk on a tightrope without a net or lifeline. He'd fall into the void at the slightest mistake.
Along with those thoughts, it sounded much more interesting and fun to try to get to know that Harvard kid.
What if he just texted him? But the thought that that boy had been his boyfriend and he didn't remember him at all made him feel embarrassed and made his face turn completely red.
He took a shower to get rid of the hospital smell, and was unpleasantly surprised to find that his shower hadn't changed either. Apparently, he'd changed the brand of his personal hygiene products in recent months, but the bottles were almost empty. He'd have to buy more.
When he looked in his closet, he again found a lot of clothes that weren't his and that he'd never buy. They must have belonged to that boy. They were almost his size, but he wouldn't wear them.
He looked for his old oversized sweaters and jeans. If he wanted to go out, he'd also have to cover his face to avoid being recognized by the paparazzis, so he grabbed a cap, some sunglasses, and a scarf. He looked at himself in the mirror. He smiled; he finally felt a little more like himself, like when he was a college student and a part-time worker.
He finally recognized the face he saw in the mirror. For the first time that day, he felt like himself.
If I'm going out to buy more shampoo and toiletries, I should also take advantage of the opportunity to get some food. He checked his kitchen, and the cupboards were empty. Really? Did I survive only with fast food? Why don't I even have a box of cereal?
He sighed. He had to do some shopping. He could order from the delivery market, but he had to have at least some fruit for when he got hungry at night.
He grabbed his keys and wallet and decided to get a coffee first and then do the necessary shopping. He would also buy a quart of vanilla ice cream so he could lock himself in his apartment and watch romantic movies on his days off.
He just wanted to walk for a while to refresh his mind.
His favorite coffee shop was about a 30-minute walk from his house, but he would use the time to think and pray that his amnesia would go away and that he hadn't forgotten other important things or changed the city streets. He went straight to the line, not noticing who was in front of him as he scrolled through social media on his battered smartphone. Even though the screen was cracked, he knew that his smartphone held clues to his past, so it was a valuable treasure until he recovered his memories. He moved forward automatically until he bumped into the person in front of him, who, unfortunately for him, had remained still as the line moved forward.
"Hey, you. Move along, you're not the only one in line."
He seriously wasn't in the mood to deal with other people, and all he wanted was a coffee while his head continued to spin.
However, when he looked up, he noticed that familiar, tousled black hair, and he felt like he was going to die of embarrassment at running into "that boy."
"Evan?"
His green eyes, wide open in surprise, met the actor's blue ones in a brief moment that seemed like an eternity, and both of their chests felt like they were going to explode.
"I'm... sorry about yesterday," the younger boy finally spoke, lowering his gaze. "If it bothers you that I'm here, I'll go so you can feel comfortable."
"N-No, not at all. You're still in line." He tried to hide his nervousness and cursed himself for being so distracted. "Seriously, it's okay."
Why, of all people, did I have to run into him right now?!
Evan couldn't have been more embarrassed. He felt like he was going to die with his bad luck, as he continued to stare at the back of the boy's head in front of him. He hadn't noticed the day before, but he was only a few inches taller than him. He had chin-length black hair, clearly unkempt. It was a far cry from what you'd think a Harvard student would look like. He looked more like someone who hadn't left his room in days.
"By the way," Liam's voice sounded, pulling him out of his thoughts, "you look like a snowman wrapped in clothes like that. I don't think sunglasses and a scarf are necessary for going out for coffee."
He let out a light chuckle, and Evan felt like he'd been mistaken and that the guy in front of him was the dumbest boy in the country.
"What right do you have to call me a snowman if you look like a homeless?"
"A homeless?"
"Yeah, have a damn haircut."
Liam took a strand of his hair between his fingers. For some reason, he used to like long hair, even though everyone told him the same thing, since he used to cover his face with his always messy hair.
Liam smiled, having so many memories of the older guy talking about his hair like that. The first time they talked, they ended up arguing about something similar, but now he was infinitely happy that Evan was still the same, and that deja vu was happening all over again.
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, snowman," and he turned to place his order at the register, having finally arrived.
Evan hadn't realized when they'd gotten so far along, or when that boy had moved, and the barista was asking him what his order was going to be.
He went blank.
"Oh…" He located his drink of choice, but a voice to his left spoke first.
"Vanilla caramel latte." How did he know that was the drink he was going to order? "You´re going to order that one, right?"
"Yeah... A vanilla caramel latte... please," he instructed the lady as he took out cash to pay for it, and turned to his side to see the green-eyed boy receiving two glasses of hot black coffee. "How did you know?"
"I figured it out," he tilted his head and smiled at him before leaving. "See you later, snowman."
Evan didn't know what to say.
That voice... Those eyes...
When they handed him his drink, he left the cafe as quickly as he could with his cheeks red. He felt like his face was burning, scorching.
That face...
What's happening to me? Why does that guy have to make me so nervous even if I don't remember anything about him?