Sun. Window. Morning. Nine o’clock.

I looked at myself in the oversized floor mirror, asking myself for the tenth time. Who am I? what is my name? Exploring the bright white room did not help. Everything is white. Walls, bed, pillows, carpet, curtains, bedside table, doors, wardrobe. Every.Thing. I looked out the window. Clear blue sky. Sunny. Outside. It looks like a garden? Is this where I live? is this my room? I slowly approached the white wooden door; I knocked three times. “Hello?” I do not recognize my voice. Soft and confused. Footsteps. I hear heavy footsteps; someone is coming. I stood still, not knowing what to do; the door slowly opened. “Oh, you’re awake.” A guy. A man. Both? he looks like he is in his late twenties. Short blond hair, light blue eyes that match the sky, tall, taller than me. He is dressed in black, an all-black suit. “Are you done looking at me?” He said, tilting his head. I did not say anything. I don’t know what to say. ” I know you don’t know me, nor yourself; that’s why I’m asking you to come with me.” “C-Come?” I stuttered, my voice still unrecognizable. “Yes,” I kept looking at him, focusing on everything detail on his face, a flawless shaved face, a strong jawline. Is he a model? “Listen, I’m not going to hurt you. Boss is waiting.” Boss? I’m ten steps away from him; I step forward. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. The blond closed the door when we stepped out of the room. I looked around me; A massive hallway. White carpeted floor. Two Chandeliers. So many white doors. So many rooms; Am I in...a mansion? I followed the blond to what it looks like a massive dining room with one long black table covered in white cloth along with six white chairs around it; obviously, the owner of this mansion only likes two colors: black and white, but mostly white. The blond and I stood next to the table, waiting for his “Boss” to come. Someone opened a door. Somewhere? the blond looked up to his left side, where an individual walked down the stairs, step by step. He glanced at the blond, then at me. The “Boss” has a scary(?) looking face but a handsome one at the same time; he is...perfect. A short slick black hair. Perfectly polished black shoes. Clear pale skin. Light brown eyes. And not too thick five o’clock shadow that completes his manly look. “Good morning,” he said. With an unexpectedly deep voice, walking his way to the chair at the head of the table. “Come.” the blond said, leading me to sit next to him; out of nowhere, a maid came holding a fancy-looking tray that had three small cups of coffee; they both took their cup, and I did the same, do I even like coffee? The smell is strong. The color is dark. “You don’t remember anything, do you?” I got surprised by his accented voice; I tried not to show it; he looked at me. I looked at him back. “No, I do not.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.