Here is the thing about amnesia: it really messes with your perspective. Apparently, before the accident, I was the resident mean girl. A real piece of work. I found out via group text. I sent out a blast to my contacts: [Hey guys, super awkward, but I have amnesia. Who are you again...?] My phone immediately started blowing up. First, from my childhood best friend, the brooding, untouchable type I apparently used to torment: [Is this some twisted new game to torture me? I left dinner downstairs. Make sure you eat.] Next, from my overly protective stepbrother, whom I used to treat like dirt: [Are you still mad at me? I wired some allowance to your card. I’ll come home to keep you company tonight.] Finally, from the gorgeous, popular girl I apparently lived to harass: [Acting again? If you have amnesia, go back to sleep. I already signed you in for class.] Me: "?" Hold on. Did I misremember my own life? Based on these texts, I was living in some reverse-harem romance novel where everyone secretly adored me. 01 Doctors and nurses hurried back and forth in the hospital room, the air thick with the sharp, sterile scent of disinfectant. I propped myself up, wincing as a wave of dizziness washed over me. A few feet away, a doctor was talking to a middle-aged man in a sharp suit. "How is she doing?" "Miss Davis's amnesia isn't too severe. She just seems to have forgotten certain specific people..." Listening to their conversation, I froze. Amnesia? How could I have amnesia? "I don't think I have amnesia!" I couldn't help but interrupt. "I know my name is Harper Davis. My dad is Richard Davis, and my mom is Margaret." The middle-aged man turned his head and asked me with a gentle, patient tone, "Then do you remember who I am, Miss?" I nodded quickly. "Of course, you're our family's butler, Mr. Thomas." The man remained silent for a long moment, his expression complicated. "Miss... I'm your family's driver. And my name isn't Thomas. I'm George." Me: "?" He sighed and turned back to the doctor. "Thank you for your hard work, Doctor. I'll go contact her parents." From their brief exchange, I learned that I had accidentally tumbled down the stairs at the campus library. After passing out, my classmates had rushed me to the hospital. When they left the room, I finally snapped out of my daze and started scrolling through my phone. Looking at the pinned contacts at the top of my messages, if it weren't for my parents' familiar numbers, I would have sworn I picked up a stranger's phone. A contact saved as "Coldhearted Monster" happened to send two messages right then. [Be downstairs in thirty minutes to pick up your food.] [I'm too lazy to bring it up to your door.] I racked my brain but couldn't recall who this guy was. I could only ask him: [Could you please buy me lunch?] He replied quickly, but every word felt sharp enough to cut. [Buying the princess her lunch is my literal duty.] [But next time, could you tell me in advance if you want food from off-campus?] [Otherwise, standing in line for thirty minutes really delays your dining schedule.] Wow. This guy was charming. But now wasn't the time to eat. I quickly replied: [Never mind, I'm not eating today.] The other side went silent for a while. Even though I couldn't see his face through the screen, I could feel a faint sense of anger radiating from his texts. [Is it because the breakfast I brought you this morning wasn't to your taste?] [So you're throwing a tantrum again, is that it?] I hurriedly explained: [No, I promise. I have amnesia T_T.] He mocked: [Is this the princess's new trick to torture me?] Me: "?" Was I really that awful? Afraid he wouldn't believe me, I sent him a picture. [I'm really not lying. Look, I'm still lying in a hospital bed.] For a long time, there was no reply. I guessed he had either fainted from anger or was just too lazy to deal with me. I started scrolling through our chat history. This "Coldhearted Monster" routinely helped me pick up food, grab my packages, and buy me lattes. Sometimes, he even took orders to do my assignments and let me copy his answers for exams. But my attitude towards him was far from friendly. I always spoke to him in a bossy, commanding tone. A wave of guilt washed over me. How could I talk to a classmate like that? "Harper—" The hospital room door was suddenly pushed open, and a young man rushed in. He wore a simple white short-sleeved button-down. He had a clean, refined face with striking bone structure. Even the fingers gripping the takeout box were pale and slender. I stared at him, momentarily dazed. Some people might get amnesia. But their core appreciation for good looks never changes. My standards for my ideal type hadn't changed either. I looked up at him and asked cautiously, "You are?" He stiffened. He pursed his lips, lowered his eyes, and asked, "You don't remember who I am?" I frowned in deep thought. "Are you the Coldhearted Monster?" His expression turned complicated. "...My name is Noah Wright." Noah reached out, wanting to check the injury on my forehead. "You fell down the stairs? Is it serious?" Seeing me flinch, he stiffly lowered his hand, his tone turning cold. "I'm not worried about you. I'm just afraid that if you bumped your head, you'd try to pin the blame on me again." In just a few short sentences, he sketched out a picture of how selfish and spoiled I used to be. The guilt in my heart deepened. Seeing that I wasn't speaking, he asked in a low voice, "You really don't remember who I am?" I answered honestly, "I don't remember, but looking at our chat history, you must be the guy who always runs errands for me." Noah: "...Not exactly." I looked up suspiciously. He took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "We are childhood sweethearts." When I still didn't say anything, Noah added flatly, "And yes, we were also arranged to be engaged when we were kids." I was shocked. "What? But our chat history doesn't look like that at all... I thought you were just a classmate I wasn't close with." Noah laughed out of pure frustration. "If it wasn't for that relationship, who would be willing to run your errands every single day?!" "Who would go out of their way to buy you food and save you a seat?" I defended myself in confusion: "But you just said buying my food was your duty." Noah raised an eyebrow slightly. "Yeah, isn't it the duty of a fiancé?" Just then, George the driver walked into the room. He looked a bit surprised to see Noah. "Noah, you're here?" Noah stood up politely to greet him, smiling. "I came to check on her." George was about to find a chair to sit down, but Noah's next words made him jump right back up. "By the way, George, Harper doesn't believe that we grew up together." "Tell her. Aren't we already engaged?" George's eyes widened. "Huh?" He looked at Noah, who seemed perfectly normal, and then at me, whose face was full of questions. After a moment of contemplation, he nodded with a complex expression. "Yeah... that's true." 02 The first person I saw when I woke up was George. Given how he had run around handling my admission paperwork and contacting my parents, I already had a certain level of trust in him. Looking at Noah's expression, it didn't seem like he was joking. I felt a secret thrill in my heart. My ideal type had suddenly transformed into my fiancé. I felt like I hit the jackpot! Sure enough, even with amnesia, you'll still fall for the person you used to like at first sight. When George stepped out to take a phone call, Noah placed the takeout box on the overbed table and handed me some silverware. "Eat first." I took one look and smiled. "What a coincidence, these are all my favorites." Noah lowered his eyes, scooping some soup for me, his tone calm. "It's not a coincidence. This is the exact menu you specifically ordered this morning." Guilt washed over me. "...That must have been a lot of trouble for you." Noah casually wiped his hands with a napkin, saying flatly, "It's not like it's just been a hassle for one day." "I'm used to it." I felt a surge of pity and tugged at his sleeve. "Let's eat together then?" Noah's body went rigid. He rubbed his nose and coughed lightly. "I only bought one portion." I felt confused again. "Don't we usually eat together?" Noah turned his head away, pretending to look at the scenery outside the window. "...We do, but I already ate today." I didn't doubt him, and my mind was finally at ease. While he was drinking water, I continued eating and chattered away with him. "Noah, actually, the moment I saw you, I felt like I remembered something." He choked on his water, coughing violently. He almost lost his composure. "You remembered?" Noah's voice sounded strange, lacking his initial calm and collected demeanor. I nodded. "Yeah, the first time I saw you, I thought we looked like a perfect match." "No wonder we're engaged. You truly are my destined husband." I laughed. "And even though I have amnesia, my standards for my ideal type haven't changed at all." "My imaginary husband looked exactly like you." Noah: "..." A flush of crimson slowly crept up his flawless face, and the tips of his ears turned bright red. Noah scrambled up so fast he almost knocked over the overbed table. Me: "?" Noah tried his hardest to steady his nerves, but his flushed cheeks betrayed his current mood. He waved his phone. "Um... my study group just sent a notification. I have to head back for a bit." "I need to submit some data to my advisor this afternoon." I urged him understandingly, "Then hurry back! I feel much better. I'll just rest by myself this afternoon and I'll be fine." Noah nodded, softening his tone. "I'll come back and check on you later tonight." He practically sprinted out of the hospital room as if he were fleeing. I couldn't help but sigh at how exhausting grad school must be nowadays. A message from an advisor was like a death warrant. George happened to return from the hallway. Seeing me alone, he looked surprised. "Noah left?" I nodded, smiling. "Yeah, he said he'd come back to see me later." George let out a sigh of relief and then discussed things with me. "The doctor thinks it's best if a family member comes to the hospital." "Since your parents are out of the country right now and can't get back immediately, should I contact your brother?" Brother? I had a brother? Seeing my blank look, George gave an "I expected as much" expression. He took my phone, tapped the screen a few times, and handed it back to me. "This is your brother." I looked down. A profile picture of a beagle wearing sunglasses caught my eye. His contact name was: "Trust Fund ATM" The daily conversations in the chat were pitifully sparse, consisting almost entirely of his transfer history to me. And occasionally, if someone made me mad, he would immediately step in to fix the problem. His response speed was so fast, it felt like I had purchased a VIP premium service. "Harper, you probably don't remember, but Mason is your brother. Not by blood, though—he was adopted by your parents." "He's three years older than you and has always taken great care of you." George explained. I understood and sent a message to the contact. [Brother.] He replied almost instantly. He sent fifty question marks in a row. Although I didn't understand what he was so shocked about, I honestly continued typing. [Are you free right now?] Trust Fund ATM: [I'm free! What's wrong? Did someone bully you again?] Trust Fund ATM: [Send me their info, I'll go teach them a lesson.] Trust Fund ATM: [Do you need pocket money? I'll wire it right now.] Trust Fund ATM: [Also, what did you just call me? Can you call me that one more time T_T...] What a weird brother. What a weird request. But I obliged him: [Brother, can you come to the hospital for a bit?] He sent another row of question marks. Immediately after, a voice call came through. I've always hated answering phone calls. Even with amnesia, that hadn't changed. So I mercilessly hit the decline button. Trust Fund ATM: [? Why aren't you answering the phone? What happened?] Trust Fund ATM: [Are you a scammer?!] Trust Fund ATM: [Scammers rot in hell. Give the phone back to her, or I swear to God I will end you.] Me: [...I just don't want to answer the phone. Too lazy.] Trust Fund ATM: [Oh, then it is you.] Me: [I have amnesia.] He sent another row of question marks. It really matched his profile picture perfectly. Trust Fund ATM: [Then do you still remember who I am?] I was getting a little annoyed: [I know, aren't you my brother?] Trust Fund ATM: [Yes, yes, yes!! I am your absolute favorite brother!!] Please don't add weird modifiers to yourself, okay? I pretended not to see it: [If you have time, can you come to the hospital? The doctor needs to see a family member.] Trust Fund ATM: [Send me the address.] After sending the location, I added, afraid he'd worry: [Don't worry, my condition isn't too serious.] Trust Fund ATM: [Okay, your brother will be right there ^^.] I reassured him: [No rush, George is keeping me company in the room, and my fiancé just came to see me too.] There was a moment of silence from the other end. Soon after, another row of shocked question marks arrived. Trust Fund ATM: [FIANCÉ?? Who the hell is that!!?] 03 Not long after, Mason arrived in a hurry. He was still wearing a dress shirt and suit pants, but his clean-cut short hair and the stud in his left ear completely clashed with his outfit. "Harper..." Mason sat by my bed, his face full of emotion and expectation. "So, after your amnesia, you only remember me?" Me: "Uh, actually, I didn't remember you either..." Mason: "?" I held up my phone in front of him and kindly said, "George told me that the person with this profile picture is my brother." Mason glanced at the phone, his mouth twitching. "Why is my contact name 'Trust Fund ATM'?" I felt like everyone I met today should be hospitalized instead of me. "If I knew that, would it still be called amnesia?" Mason: "I suppose that makes sense..." Even though my stepbrother didn't look entirely reliable, he was currently my only family member around. I tugged at his sleeve and asked softly, "Brother, can I be discharged? I want to go home." Mason's heart completely melted into a puddle. "No problem! I'll go handle the paperwork right now!" He walked briskly toward the door, then turned back and cleared his throat. "By the way, Harper, I forgot to tell you something." I looked up suspiciously. Mason took a deep breath and whispered earnestly, "You've always called me 'Brother' at home." ... Half an hour later, I was sitting in the car heading home. Beside me, Mason kept asking, "Do you want anything to drink? Do you want some snacks?" I shook my head, smiling. "No thanks, Brother." Mason: "Ah... then do you want to listen to music? Do you want to play a video game?" I continued to shake my head. "Thank you, Brother, but don't worry about it." Mason carefully savored the way I addressed him, finally withdrawing his gaze in pure satisfaction. I scrolled through our chat history and voiced my doubts. "Brother, why do I feel like our relationship wasn't very good before?" Mason bristled like a wild dog with its fur standing up. "Who said that?! Who said that?!" I shoved the phone in front of him and said honestly, "I saw it myself. And my tone when talking to you wasn't very nice..." Mason looked like he was about to cry tears of emotion. "It wasn't bad at all! I thought it was incredibly nice." Me: "?" Bro, are you okay? In the chat history, I used to boss Mason around like a dog. If there was even the slightest thing I wasn't happy about, I inevitably cursed him out terribly. Yet Mason never fought back or defended himself; he just silently endured it. And at the end, he would even say: [Stop being mad, it's all your brother's fault. I transferred some money to you, go buy a bag and cheer yourself up.] How could I have been so awful! Mason started listing my virtues. "Look, normally when someone bullies you, you tell me to go beat them up. Isn't that because you care about my health, worrying that I'll develop a beer belly and become a greasy middle-aged man, so you make sure I exercise and stretch my bones?" "Also, every week you ask me to send you money. Why? Because you know I'd just waste it, so you cut off the waste at the source! Besides, the things you bought weren't just junk; you bought gold and designer bags. What is that? That's an investment! You were managing my finances for me!" "Even if you used to be a little blunt, it doesn't matter. We're family. As the saying goes, the words from the people you love the most hurt the most. You loved me the most, so I totally understood." Me: "?" As the car drove into a gated community, Mason held an umbrella to shade me from the sun when I got out. He suddenly asked, "By the way, you mentioned earlier that your fiancé came to see you too. Who is that?" I smiled brightly and said, "He said his name is Noah Wright. Do you know him?" Mason fell silent. After a long while, he finally gritted his teeth and cursed. "Damn it. He stole my base." "If he spouts any sweet-talking lies, don't you dare believe a word." "That guy might look pure and harmless on the outside, but he's rotten to the core and a master manipulator." Just as he finished speaking, a scoff came from ahead. "Are you introducing yourself?" 04 My eyes fell on the girl standing on the stairs. She had her arms crossed, looking at us with a half-smile. I looked questioningly at Mason beside me. Didn't they say I only had one brother? Did I have a sister, too? Mason: "Uh... she's... Stella." As he said this, Mason carefully gauged my reaction. "She's Maria's daughter. Maria is the nanny who works for our family." "Her house is currently being renovated, so Mom and Dad told her to stay here on the weekends." Earlier in the car, George had mentioned that there was a nanny who had taken care of us for over twenty years. That must be Maria. Seeing that I had no reaction, Mason whispered in my ear, "We don't need to pay attention to her. Let's just go back to your room and rest." "Don't forget to take your medicine later." Hearing this, Stella slightly raised an eyebrow. But she nonchalantly stepped aside to let us pass. As I walked up the stairs, I saw Stella still standing near the front door. Sensing my gaze, she lifted her eyelids and gave me a look. Stella was very pretty. The kind of pretty that would make people do a double-take if they passed her on the street. Her eyes had a slight upward tilt at the corners, adding an air of cool detachment. I tilted my head and smiled, waving at her. Stella looked stunned for a moment. Early the next morning, I received several video calls in a row from my parents. My mom was crying on the other end of the screen. I comforted and coaxed her, assuring her that the doctor could come to the house anytime to check on my recovery. They finally felt relieved. Right after hanging up, I heard a commotion downstairs. I shuffled out in my slippers and peeked over the railing. Both Mason and Noah looked furious. Meanwhile, Stella sat on the couch, watching TV as if she had all the time in the world. Mason gritted his teeth, glaring angrily. "You actually took advantage of her amnesia to say you're her fiancé?! Do you have no shame?!" Noah poured himself a glass of water, acting like no one else was in the room. "I wasn't lying. We were already engaged." Mason looked like he wanted to punch him. "You call that an engagement?! Neither of you even showed up for the dinner! You used to act like sworn enemies, fighting every time you saw each other!" "You always hated it when she ordered you around using the 'fiancée' title. Why didn't you mention that?" Noah considerately corrected the inaccuracies in his statement: "That's not true. Before high school, we got along quite well. You're misremembering." "Is that the main point?!" Mason was so angry he could have fainted. "I have never seen anyone as shameless as you." Stella, who had been watching for a long time, lazily chimed in. "You haven't seen much of the world, then. I think you're pretty shameless, too." Mason: "?" Stella yawned. "You still insisted she call you 'Brother' when you didn't even deserve a name in this house. Wasn't your nickname always just 'Hey'?" "And saying she clung to you the most at home? From what I saw, you were the one acting like a clingy stray dog." Mason finally snapped back to reality, laughing out of sheer anger. "I was so busy dealing with Noah, I forgot about you." "Stella, this is my house! Watch your tone!" Stella looked up nonchalantly. "I know. If your parents hadn't asked me to stay, do you think I'd want to be here?" The tension between the three of them downstairs was explosive; it had become an absolute chaotic battleground. I hesitated for a moment before speaking up. "What are you guys talking about?" The three of them abruptly looked up at me on the second floor. Mason was the first to react. He quickly put on a smile. "Harper, we were just chatting." Me: "?" Don't you think your "chatting" tone was a little too vicious? I tilted my head, my gaze bypassing him to look at Noah behind him. "Noah, why are you here too?" Noah rightfully pushed Mason aside and walked toward me. His tone was much softer. "I came to take you back to campus." Mason grabbed his collar. "You're taking her? Am I dead to you?" They both looked at me simultaneously. "Harper?" Me: "..." My gaze fell on Stella, who was sipping tea, completely unbothered and acting as if none of this concerned her. "Stella, do you also go to Stanford?" She clearly hadn't expected the conversation to suddenly involve her. She was taking a sip of tea and suddenly choked. She forced herself to remain composed, wiped her mouth with a napkin, and looked up at me with a complex expression. "Yeah, why?" I smiled, my eyes sparkling. "Then let's go back together." 05 On the way back, I could count the number of times Stella spoke to me on one hand. To ease the tension, George the driver kept giving me background information on her. I finally learned that Stella used to come over to play at my house all the time when we were kids. Even though she was the nanny's daughter, my parents adored her. She had always been quiet and introverted, the complete opposite of my personality. George was so used to talking about it that he completely dropped his filter. "Harper, you and Stella grew up together. If there was some conflict later on, you just need to talk it out. You guys are still good friends." I frowned slightly. "I had a conflict with Stella?" Two coughs sounded next to me, and Stella quickly changed the subject. She looked at me with her cold, clear voice. "Your brother said you have amnesia. Are you sure you're not just acting again?" Before I could answer, George quickly chimed in. "Of course not! I was the one who handled the hospital admission paperwork for her!" Stella choked on her words and went silent. I watched her rest her head on her hand and stare out the window, wondering what she was thinking. I couldn't help but whisper. "Stella, what kind of person was I before?" Stella didn't turn around, but her words were directed at me. "Why don't you ask Mason and Noah?" I cupped my face and let out a long sigh. "Half of what they tell me is true and half is fake. They've praised me to the heavens. I don't believe them." "So you believe me?" Stella turned to look at me, casually listing my offenses. "You were selfish, arrogant, bossy, and mean." "If things didn't go exactly your way, you'd throw a massive tantrum, like you were possessed by a demon." I froze. Stella's tone was flat. "Do you believe me when I say that about you?" After a moment of thought, I nodded. This time, she was the one who was stunned. "I think you're absolutely right. I must have been a really terrible person before." I said with earnest guilt, "I read my chat history. I definitely wasn't as nice as those two made me out to be." Stella frowned slightly, opening her mouth, but ultimately remained silent. "Then... did I bully Mason a lot?" I asked worriedly. "You stayed at my house often, you must know, right?" Stella didn't pull her arm away even though I was tugging at it, which she clearly wasn't used to. She paused, resting her head on one hand, and said casually. "Yes, Mason was your number one lackey." "Whatever you wanted, he gave it to you. Even if you wanted the stars in the sky, he'd probably call NASA to get them." "He spoiled you the most since you were little. But if he failed to do exactly what you ordered, you would either hit him or scream at him." I subconsciously swallowed hard, my nose stinging, my voice trembling. "I... I hit him?" My palms throbbed faintly. I remembered Mason's indulgent smile from earlier that day. I really wished I could punch myself. Stella shot me a look, her expression complex. "What are you thinking? Of course not punching and kicking..." I was dumbfounded. "Huh? Then what was it?" Stella waved her hand, sounding awkward. "It's not polite to say. Just consider it the 'reward' you gave him." "Anyway, he seemed to enjoy it." The car pulled up to the campus gates. Stella headed straight toward the academic buildings. Halfway there, she turned around and asked me. "You have a class at ten. Are you going?" I rubbed my groggy head and asked guiltily, "Can I skip it?" Stella let out a mocking laugh. "Sure enough. Even with amnesia, the habit of skipping class is still in your blood." I wanted to defend myself but had nothing to say. She truly was an expert in human behavior. "I'll sign you in. If you're not feeling well, just go back to the dorm and rest." Stella waved at me lazily. "Go on back." I quickly thanked her. I hadn't expected Stella to be this nice. She wasn't nearly as stuck-up as she seemed. I didn't even know why I had a conflict with her in the first place. I actually really wanted to be friends with her. With these chaotic thoughts in my head, just as I turned around, I heard a barely audible sigh behind me. "Actually, you weren't as bad as you think you were."
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