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wendystales · 3 years

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Memories - lrh (Chapter Seven)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Six ※※※※※ Chapter Eight

The sun and heat were plaguing Los Angeles today. Even in the shade, there was no truce. Despite the unbearable heat, I didn't want to miss a beautiful day locked inside the house, so I decided to accompany my best friend in a photoshoot today.

We parked in front of a one floor house, in fact, it looked more like a shed with a very simple appearance. We entered through the next door, avoiding the reception. As soon as we enter, I see a huge space with several colorful panels scattered, in addition to other objects of scenery and lighting.

When Noah closes the door, a round of applause begins, who are applauding? I see a team of about twenty people lined up and among them, the only one I recognize is Kyleen, who wore a belt with several makeup brushes.

Without understanding, I start to applaud everyone, including the twins. Is it their birthday? Everyone is staring at us, so I approach Leah slowly.

“Who are we applauding?” I ask confused.

“You, duh!” she smile.

I look at everyone, confused. Why are you applauding me? My cheeks start to heat up and I don't know what to do.

In a few seconds, the noise stops and I feel compelled to say something. I get closer to the team, noticing the smile that everyone had on their faces.

“Uh, I don't even know what to say. Everyone should already know about amnesia, however, I would like to say that regardless of my memory, I am very grateful to all of you for all the assistance. If I really am that amazing model that I've been seeing, it's definitely due to you. Thank you so much, for everything and for now, for this reception and all the affection.” I bow a little, ending this speech project, awkwardly.

One by one, everyone comes to hug me. It is so strange. I, the ‘invisible’, not popular, who always stayed in my corner, had become a famous model. Today several people wanted to meet me, say hello or just say ‘hi’. It is strange, but it is good.

After all the reception, I follow Leah and Kyleen into the dressing room, watching my friend prepare for another photoshoot while Noah heads for a meeting.

Because of my condition, all the rehearsals and campaigns that I would do were passed on to Leah, so this month she had a very busy schedule. I make a face when I watch her trying to get into a rubber-like jumpsuit. Her hair was well armed and her makeup was loaded, her eyes were full of gloss. And I like this?

“You are very lucky that I love you and you are in this condition. Because I hate these revolutionary photoshoots.” she snorts, trying to go to the table and put on the huge pearl earrings.

“And I like?” I still question without accepting.

“No, but you always do. God knows why.” she stands upright, taking a little walk, looking at herself in the mirror. “Shit, the panties are on my ass.” she complains, leaving the dressing room and trying to get her panties out of the way.

“My God, Leah!” Kyleen scolds, trying not to laugh.

In the studio, I sit next to Kiki, who between one photo and another was going to touch up Leah's makeup. I am amazed to see my friend shine through the flashes. She makes it look so easy, stopping in several different poses, staring at the camera without laughing, with those big models faces.

“She is amazing.” I comment with the owner of the colored hair beside me, who agrees with me.

After several photos, again I go to the dressing room watching my friend now exchange the jumpsuit for a loose dress. As soon as the new makeup was done, Kiki stops behind me, pasting her face to mine.

“What do you think about doing makeup?” the sparkle in her eyes and Leah's smile in the chair next to me, show me how much they want it.

“Promise you won't make that eye full of gloss?” I ask smiling weakly, noticing the brightness in her eyes grow as she promises.

I lay my head on the back and close my eyes at the command of my friend. The whole process is fast and Kyleen does a very light and simple makeup, just hiding some scratches that I still have on my face and neck. In the eyes, a pink tone makes only the contrast deepening my concave and a beautiful eyeliner, which I would never be able to do.

Taking advantage of the fact that I was still in her hands, Kiki takes advantage and braids the top of my head, leaving the rest loose, making me feel like a princess.

“You are amazing.” I compliment her, giving a long kiss on her cheek in thanks.

I hold her hand, heading back to the studio to follow the rest of Leah's photos.

“So, Marnie, what do you think of some pictures?” Brandon, the photographer, comes towards me. I look at him, scared and saying nothing.

I seek help from my friends and even from other people on the team, but no one helps me. In fact, everyone motivates me.

“I don't know, I'm not dressed up and I'm all hurt yet.” I try to hold on to excuses.

“It does not need to be tidy and we will not publish anything, it is just for you to see yourself and maybe adapt again.” he offers the idea.

I face everyone again, not finding help. I close my eyes, giving up. I reach out to Brandon who lets out a loud celebration and takes me over to the square box Leah used to occupy.

Brandon guides me through the poses and looks. I feel my cheeks warm and I'm sure I'm looking like a tomato. I try to release myself with each photo and command they give me, even release a song to try to relax me, but in the end I start laughing.

In the back of my mind, I hear Ashton's voice, giving Brandon one of my orders as "more cheeky", "more mysterious" and even snarling, which only disturbs me. As I walk my eyes through the lights and camera, in my mind another memory comes back.

I can see Ashton sitting on the chairs with Kyleen, "trying" to help me. I just watched Brandon waiting for him to tell the Australian boy to shut up, but he just smiled. I continue my hard work of ignoring my friend, but it comes to a point where he is snarling and scratching the air, which breaks my concentration and makes me laugh.

I end up smiling with the memory still running through my head. In the end, the photos were beautiful, mostly I left laughing, a spontaneous and contagious laugh. My laughter closes when I see Luke's tall figure enter the studio.

I hold my breath with each step he takes, approaching us. He pulls up his sunglasses, showing his pale blue eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Leah asks while getting stuffed with Cheetos.

“I came to pick up Marnie.” he turns to me, giving a closed smile. I widen and run my eyes over to my friends, not knowing what to do.

“Me?” I question after a bug time.

“Ah yes! Your mother called me saying she was stuck at work. She wanted to know if there would be any problems if I took you to the doctor. I said no.” he shrugs.

Once again, I look back at Leah and Kiki, who are just as stuck as I am. Before I open my mouth, Luke's focus turns to the screen next to me, looking at the pictures I just took. I watch your eyes smile.

“They were beautiful.” I smile to him, when he looks back at me.

“Thanks.” I let out the air again. “Well, if I don't get in the way, that's fine. We can go.” Kyleen brings my bag, handing it to Luke. I say goodbye to everyone, I thank Brandon for the photos and slowly leave with him.

I hold my breath again when he closes the door next to me. What am I doing? Getting stuck in a car with Luke days after we broke up? What's my problem? I embrace my broken arm, closing myself.

The drive way to the hospital couldn't have been worse, or whatever. We were quiet all the time. In fact, I stayed. Luke even tried to pull something up, but I couldn't follow, I just crashed. When we arrived, I almost jumped out of the car and followed as fast as I could inside, leaving him almost alone.

What am I doing? What am I doing?

I notice from the corner of my eye, he is approaching while I check in.

“Are you okay?” I look confused at him when we sit down. “The doctor, are you feeling well?” he points to my leg and arm.

“Ah yes! He asked me to come back just to confirm.” I smile to ease my behavior so far. “I just hope he doesn't order a blood test.” I whisper, already feeling a cold wave run down my spine.

My body freezes even more when I see Luke's hand cover mine and give it a little squeeze. I open my eyes wide and Luke realizes by quickly letting go of my hand, apologizing.

“You have been facing a tsunami of confusion and you are doing well, a needle is nothing close to this.” he jokes in an attempt to relax me and break the strange climate.

“ I'd much rather have my amnesia and all that mess than the damn needle.” out of the corner of my eye I notice Luke trying not to laugh and I end up smiling. I take a deep breath, grabbing his hand, as I look across the hall, falsely interested in the ceiling lighting.

During the fifteen minutes we sat there, he did not let go of my hand. I was rambling about that scene and about us. Not remembering him was killing me. Every day I had at least two to three memories, not to mention the things I read, which leads me to stay with the imagination. However, Luke was still the only person I still couldn't remember and probably the most important.

Even with the diary, videos on social medias and photos. It only sank my hopes of going back. I mean, I know I can let my guard down and try to fall in love with him again, but that alternative is not yet an option and it scares me because it has no attraction.

“May I ask you a question?” I begin, in an attempt to break that unbearable silence between us.

“Sure, as many as you want.” Luke answers, super willing.

“What's the nickname? Why does everyone call me M&Ms?” Luke opens a smile, trying not to get a laugh.

“Well, on the serious side of it.” I wrinkle my forehead. Is there a serious side to this? “It's your initials. Marnie Elizabeth McGonagall, M - & - M.” it’s strange how good it’s to hear my name in his mouth.

“And the less serious side?” I have my suspicions, but I want to confirm.

“That you know! You are crazy about M&Ms. I remember countless discussions we had and then you forgave me because I gave you M&Ms.” my cheeks heat up in shame. Damn obsession with chocolate.

“That's why I wasn't surprised with that thing that separates them by colors in my kitchen.” Luke gives a laugh.

“I don't think I've ever seen you so happy to buy something so useless.” I look at the blonde, totally offended.

“It is not useless, it is for them to stay organized and none feel bad that I am eating one color more than another.” I defend my point, facing the hallway again. I strange the silence and look at Luke. “What?”

He keeps his lips tightly pressed. He wants to laugh. Your eyes carry an amused glow. Maybe he was just teasing me, because he would know that I would say something like that. After all, he knows me better than anyone.

I ignore him again. Still holding hands, we waited for the doctor to call me. Every second that passes makes me more anxious. I start hitting my leg on the floor and I want to poke my nails, but a hand is caught between his fingers and I don't want to disturb him.

For a few seconds, I look at Luke. His head against the wall and his eyes closed, make me more relaxed to analyze it without shame. I admire his long hair falling in several curls, finding himself with a very short beard, but that looks great on him.

I lower my gaze to a stop on his neck. Did we… already have sex? I look at his chest with more concentration, wondering how many times I must have passed my hands over there. I take a deep breath and risk lowering my gaze. Oh my God, did I already suc…

“Do you want to ask anything more?” I jump in the chair, startling me with his voice. Luke carries a mischievous smile as he looks at me.

Oh my God, he saw me looking at him and at him. Oh my God. Is it possible to die for being more ashamed!?

“No, I'm fine.” I turn my face to him. “I am fine!” I say softly. I hear your little laugh and I want to bury myself on the floor.

For my total bad luck, it takes the doctor a few more minutes to call me. And during this long and endless wait, I decide not to ask Luke any more questions. In fact, I decide not to look him in the face, just in case.

Seriously Marnie, did you let him catch you drooling on him!?

“Do you want me to come with you?” he offers himself, when the doctor finally calls me.

“No! It´s okay. I believe it is quick.”

“Good afternoon, Miss McGonagall, how are we?” the doctor gives a friendly smile.

Bad.

I take a deep breath, ignoring my mind, no matter how much we're here for it. I follow the consultation by answering the questions he asks. According to him, I seem to be reacting very well, which makes him believe that my amnesia is only temporary.

The doctor asks me to sit on the stretcher and look at my foot. The first time I saw my foot, it looked like a baby watermelon of so swollen it was. But in the last few days, it had improved a lot, since I was following the recommendation to always let it rest and on ice a few times.

“Are you still in pain?” he questions looking carefully.

“No. Will I be able to take it out?” I question hopefully.

“I think so! Let's do a test, you can come back without the boot, but if you feel pain or any discomfort, put it on immediately and return here, okay?”

“All right!” Unfortunately I would have to come back with the boot, because I didn't bring another shoe.

“I will order some tests too and as soon as they are ready, you can return for us to analyze.” I quietly watch him take the orders, feeling my stomach churn when I see the word blood. Shit.

I try to distract myself and turn my head to whoever is outside. Luke. I look quickly at the door, as if I can see him through the wood. I let out the air, still not knowing what to do about it.

I wish I could snap my fingers and see everything magically resolve, or just sleep and wake up when everything is in place.

"Would you like to ask something, Miss McGonagall?" the doctor leans on his desk looking at me attentively.

My face heats up and I smile nervously. I don't know if that would be something that my doctor could help me with, but it costs nothing.

“Is it possible to forget someone forever? I mean, I've had memories with basically everyone who lives with me, except one person. Would it be possible for my brain to delete it?” he scratches his chin surprised by my question.

“Well, first of all, do you want to remember this person?” I positively nod. “Do you really want to or try to convince yourself that you want to, but, deep down, you are not ready for that yet?” he raises an eyebrow. I open my mouth but nothing comes out.

I want to remember Luke and everything we live in, however, I am also afraid that even with the memories back, things will not be as they were before. I already screwed things up with Luke once, I don't want to screw it up again.

This is too horrible, because he is sweet and I do not believe that I would act like him if the situation was the other way around.

“Miss McGonagall, the brain is still a new field for medicine. It behaves in different ways for the same problem, so everything that involves it is studied and closely monitored. There is nothing to prevent this ‘block’ on a certain person from being created by you. Even if you say out loud that you want to remember, your body knows what you really want, because, even involuntarily, you transmit signals to your brain, maintaining the block.” it makes sense.

“I believe that I am only afraid, as much as I want, fear prevents me.” I say low.

“Can I offer you some advice?” I look at him in surprise, before agreeing. “Talk to that person. Be clear and sincere. Say you are afraid, but despite them, you want to remember everything. Help comes from those we least expect.” again, he gives a sympathetic and compassionate smile.

“Thank you very much, doctor.” I thank before I leave the office.

I approach Luke slowly, who gets up with a smile.

“All very well?”

“Yes, I finally got rid of the boot.”

“And why do you look like that?” he looks at me suspiciously.

“We need to talk.” I announcement tense. I see him frown, confused. “I'm going to need your help with something.”

“Marnie, you're making me worried, is everything okay? Did something happen?”

“Everything is fine.” I assure him. “It's about amnesia. It's about us.”

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