[Arc 1: Chasing You]- 1.1: Amnesia?

1.1

Blue eyes opened rapidly. Lungs sucked in a huge amount of air as if it had been deprived for so long. He tried to hastily sit up but upon feeling the massive pounding in his head, he thought otherwise. Slowly, he got his body up and checked his surroundings. Nothing looked familiar.

In fact he wasn't even familiar with himself. He raised his hand and found it odd to see that long slim arm move as he did. The feeling was indeed strange since it was his own body, how could it feel...well, strange?

The next moment, he found himself faced in front of a mirror. A youth looked back at him. Bright blue eyes stared back in confusion, red rosy lips pursed in a thin line, androgynous features blatantly displayed along with his curly brown hair and pale skin. He had quickly checked below the belt as soon as he saw the features of the youth and gave a sigh of relief. He was surprised with how delicate the youth looked but he still was a guy. Another thing, why was he relieved to know he was a guy? He subconsciously referred to himself as he, maybe that's why? He was still confused about the odd feeling at seeing himself. He kept playing the thought in his head that it is him. How could he not recognize himself?

Then it struck him.

He didn't know his name. He didn't know who he was. He didn't know where he was or what the heck happened. He tried to recall but was just faced again with the pounding of his head. He knew he had to get up but it didn't mean it was easy.

Finally pulling himself up, he walked closer to the vanity desk that held the mirror. There he closely examined himself as if not believing that this delicate youth could be him. Did he get amnesia? It surprised him that he still knew about general knowledge; it was just that his knowledge of himself and his memories were blank.

There was someone who had to know him. He thought about how difficult it would be to walk around with no memories. He has to get them back or else he would be as naïve as a new born baby. But he still didn't know whom he would be able to trust.

Putting his face into his palm, he groaned. This was not going to be easy. What if he told the truth and just said he got amnesia? Wouldn't that be easier? His situation was just adding up to his headache.

While he was mulling over the benefits of telling the truth, a knock resounded from the door.

"Young master, if you excuse me, it is time for breakfast" a feminine voice reminded.

Young master? The youth's brow knitted. Things may have just gotten more complicated. Straightening himself, he looked at the door and replied "I'll be right over" He then took a brush he found on the desk and fixed his curly strands.

There was no reply but there was the faint clacking of heels that seemed to signal that the woman has left. He wondered who that was. A maid most likely but it could be anyone else. He thought that he must be born in quite a rich household to have servants. But how rich, he didn't know yet.

He looked around the room again and spotted a frosted glass door. This should be the door to the bathroom. Stepping in, he was greeted with the sight of a pristine marble white bathroom. It was elegant and luxurious but not to the extent of being pretentious. Now that he thought about, the bed room was equally as elegant, decorated in soft blue pastel tones, a definitely high class bed, sheets and pillows, even the desk looked like it was ivory.

He wasn't feeling out of place with the luxury as with the body though. He felt it normal, which was weird considering he felt like he didn't own this body. Shrugging off his thoughts he went to the sink to wash up.

When he was done, he then proceeded to go outside. After much contemplation, in reality just about a second or two, he didn't feel the need to change out his bed clothes yet and got out of the room with it. He liked the feel of the silk against his skin.

As soon as he was out of his room he found himself in a hall with two directions to go to. He was faced with this dilemma. He has never been that good with his sense of direction. Wait...how did he know that? His eyebrows scrunched up again before he picked a random direction to go to.

He passed by a lot of ornate vases and paintings on the way which filled him a little on how lavish this (his?) family is. Luck was on his side as he arrived in front of railings that directly overlook the living room and to the side was a grand staircase. It seemed like he was on the second floor.

He trod down the stairs and was surprised at the greeting a maid gave him as soon as he stepped on the ground. The maid was wearing an authentic maid outfit which made him gloss over it twice. He shrugged

"Young master, the master waits for you in the dining room" she curtly said and turned to walk to guide him. Seems like a problem was solved for him, it looked a lot harder to navigate here than upstairs.

He followed the maid silently and was lead to a room with a large dining table that looked to be able to fit about 15 people. There he saw a good looking middle-aged man eating in a suit. It was the man's features that made him pause. Although aged, he could still see the similarity between the man and the face he saw on the mirror earlier. It was the same blue eyes and aristocratic features. If he had to make a guess, this was his father.

Because of his pause, the man looked up and noticed him. The man wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Shane. Glad you could join me." The man gave him a smile and beckoned him closer. "Come here and greet Papa" he opened his arms leaving the youth to be at a loss.

So Shane was his name? Still dazed, he went closer to the man and gave him a hug. He then sat himself at the man's right. He was again a bit surprised by the naturalness of his action but he chucked it off to his instincts. He was served breakfast as soon as he was seated. The still hot plate of eggs benedict and bacon in front of him looked very inviting that he also started to eat not long after that.

Shane also discreetly eyed the man who was smiling beside him. So this was his father? He didn't have his memories but it feels like he can trust his father. The feeling he gave him was one of comfort and protection and of course doting. He feels a lot of doting just by meeting him.

"Shane? Why are you so quiet today? Did you want something? Papa will give it to you" The man appealed.

Shane inwardly sighed. He had a father like this? He was treating him like a child. Was he spoiled? Should he say something about his circumstances? He chewed his food while he contemplated. Looking back at the worried face of his father, he relented.

"Papa, I have something to tell you" He started, eyes on his food "I can't remember anything. I think I have amnesia" He didn't beat around the bush and directly stated.

A clutter of utensils echoed and before he knew it his shoulders were held by his father. His father looked shocked, worried and pained. As if he was going to lose Shane anytime.

"What happened? Do you still recognize me right? It's me your Papa. Shane, don't lie." His voice was stern with a hint of desperation. Shane didn't want to let him down but he couldn't lie. Shane shook his head at his father.

"My name is Shane right?" He asked hoping to get the message across. "I'm sorry, I don't know what happened. When I woke up I-" He was cut off

"Don't apologize. It's okay. " His father hugged him again, gently patting him. But if anything, Shane felt that the word's his father were saying looked to be for his own assurance rather than Shane's.

His father sat back on his own seat and called "Howard."

A butler suddenly entered the room complete with a three piece suit, stoic expression and dignified aura. He gave a curt bow towards Shane and greeted "Young master" He gave another bow, this time towards Shane's father "Master, you called"

"What happened with Shane yesterday?" A cold and stern face replaced his father's previous doting expression which caught Shane off guard. The difference was just too great! Shane thought about people and if that was what they called two-faced.

"Frankly Young master Shane, did what he did every Friday. In the morning he attended the university and at night, he went to the bar. The bodyguards were there to watch over him and as usual he got carried home. The guards reported nothing unusual." The butler relayed, his tone even all throughout.

Shane was embarrassed to know what he did. Was he some sort of a dandy boy? He was mortified just thinking about it. And he even got to be carried home by his bodyguards! Apparently he didn't like finding out about his person. Do people with amnesia experience this- A change in personality?

He glanced at his father again to see what his thoughts were but he was showing the same cold face. He kept his head down, ashamed of what the butler had said. He couldn't believe he was this kind of person.

"Call the physician, quickly. We'll be right over to the hospital." He ordered, his voice stern. The butler nodded once and went away to do his tasks. Shane looked at his plate of half-finished food then at his father and back to his food which he proceeded to quickly.

"Shane, after eating, get dressed we're going to get you checked" His father gave a faint smile. The smile gave Shane the feeling of self-depreciation. He wanted to comfort his father but didn't know how so he just returned with his own smile.

Shane did indeed finish his food quickly and went back to his room to change. He was offered by his father to have a maid guide him but he refused. He better start learning now or he didn't know when he'll learn. There were a few wrong turns here and there but in the end he arrived at his room. He searched around the room and found another door, this time made of wood, which he suspected to be the closet.

Opening the door, he was graced with the sight of a wide expanse of clothes all neatly arranged. If he had to guess, the closet was pretty much half the size of the room, and the room itself was pretty big. Rows and rows of clothes lined his view. There was even a whole wall and dresser dedicated to jewelries and accessories!

Not wanting to linger any longer, Shane took the simplest pair he could find: A plain white shirt, denim jeans, a navy blue hoodie and sneakers. He didn't need to look at the clothes to know that they were expensive, just the feel of it was enough. After getting dressed, he hurried down to meet his father, with fewer missed turns than before.

Once he was down, he found his father waiting for him by the entrance. Together, they exited the house and entered a sleek looking car. The drive was quick so the awkward silence didn't have time to spread through. They entered the hospital and were immediately greeted by the staff.

Shane watched all that was happening. His father was quick and efficient that they were immediately guided into the lab. Only Shane entered the lab while his father stayed behind. There he was met with a balding man in a lab coat which he assumed to be the physician. The physician guided him through several test, one even required them to leave the room to get his brain checked. A CT scan, if he recalled correctly.

After the tests, both men were seated in a private lounge in the hospital, reserved for the VIPs. Shane having already expected this treatment, he was not all that surprised now. He just had to get over the initial shock of finding out the way he lived and he could pretty much adapt.

Being wealthy is really convenient, the results of the tests quickly arrived along with the same balding doctor. Shane frowned. Basing on the doctor's expression, the results may not be good.

"Mr. Tyre?" Shane watched as he father stood up. So was that his father's name? Seeing has his father stood up, he also followed suit. The doctor went near them and handed the results. His father's face contorted in anger as he read the folder containing the results.

"Poison?! Someone dared?" He exclaimed with a tone that promised death. Even Shane was spooked upon hearing the tone of his father, let alone the doctor.

"Yes, according to the tests performed, the poison in his blood was supposed to deal with some internal damages but the brunt of the damage was concentrated in the brain which had led to some brain damage. It may be the cause of the loss of memories" The doctor was still professional and reported the findings in a concise manner even though Shane could literally smell the fear coming off the doctor.

The two continued to converse while Shane was feeling more distracted. It wasn't that he couldn't understand what they were talking about, he could, it was just the pounding in head was becoming more and more prominent. He did take the medicine the doctor gave him earlier when he spoke about the headache but it wasn't working.

He slipped away from his father and the doctor, hoping that he hid his discomfort and made his way to go back to the seats. Because of his head ache he wasn't able to focus and ended up bumping into someone. Gritting his teeth in pain as he felt like he hit a wall, he looked up to see whoever bumped him.

Icy blue eyes stared back at him. Traces of disgust can be seen on those features which made Shane step back. The man was tall. Shane had to crane his neck just to look at the man. Dark brown hair, chiseled sharp features that looked as if it had been sculpted, Shane had to pause for a moment.

Still, the look of disgust and the aura of enmity that the man was emitting were startling to Shane. Did he know this man? Did he do something wrong? He just bumped into the man.

Shane continued to stare, at a loss of what to do. It was only after a moment that something seemed to trigger in his head. He felt a large burst of pain causing him to clutch his head with both hands.

Pain flared that it affected his eyesight. Everything was too bright and blurry. Shane closed his eyes but the pain continued to beat against his head. He gave in to his urge to scream and let out a noise loud enough that it startled both the man and his father.

The last thing he heard was a cry from his father before his consciousness disappeared and his body gave in.

Shane didn't feel the large pair of hands that caught him.