I can't help but reminisce about how I had come to call this place, the St. Lazarus Hospital, home, substituting the family I couldn't recall with its staff.

"Heya, Jon!" A voice booms right behind me, making me almost upset the frying pan. I don't need to turn to see who it is. It's my roommate, whose voice is a serious threat to my eardrums.

"Hey, pal! You look good today!" I reply.

"Eh? Really? Aww, Jon, I didn't have time to look at my handsome self in the mirror today. Thanks, buddy. I don't know what to say."

"Just lie, you know, something like I just did."

"HEYYY!"

My whole form trembles with chuckles and I go back to flipping eggs as everyone else in the kitchen erupts with laughter at my roommate's whines at how cruel I am.

Watching them bickering among themselves, I sigh and shake my head, smiling at their banter, as I saute some onions in the pan.

"Hey, Jon, would you mind accompanying Jeff to go and serve the food to that table? Theirs is a large order," the main cook, Emma, requests.

"Sure, no problem, Em," I smile and quickly wash my hands before handing out clean platters to Jeff.

******

"She can't remember anything, anyone, not even me, her mom!" A middle-aged woman sobs into a tissue.

I freeze. The glasses of juice on the plate in my hands rattle a bit. I stare at them; a shallow breath escapes my pudgy chest.

A man sitting next to her caresses her hair and murmurs, "Honey, please don't break down like this... We need to be strong for our girl, don't we? She can't remember who we are, or anything else for that matter. But it's okay, we have found her now, and we'll always be by her side..."

"Hey, Jon," Jeff nudges me with his elbow. It takes a few more nudges for me to snap out of it. My eyes shoot wide open; I shake my head a few times to clear the haze.

"You alright?" He inquires, concerned.

I look ahead and see that he has already placed the plates of sandwiches on the table. Clearing my throat, I give him a small smile and put the glasses of juice in front of the family of five.

"It's alright, Jon," Jeff rubs my back soothingly as we walk back to the kitchen. "I am sure someone will come for you soon. Stay strong."

I look at him and smile.

Jeff hadn't left my side since my discharge from the hospital after being diagnosed with amnesia. He had found me, sitting outside the hospital gates with no notion of location and identity.

"Hey, so, you are Jon Snow from now on," he had laughed. "Oh sorry, uh, I'm Jeffrey, Jeff in short. Come with me. You can stay with me till we can arrange something for you."

After a few minutes of walking, he had commented, "It seems that we'll make great pals... Jon and Jeff." He had burst out laughing at himself, and I had joined him.

So here I am, employed as a chef in the kitchen of the hospital cafeteria, as soon as I discovered that I could cook fairly decent meals.

I glance at the family who had come to claim their daughter and feel a pang gnaw at my heart.

'It's been months... When will someone come to take me? True that I won't be familiar with them, but at least I'll have someone to call my own, for real. At the least, I will have an identity.

But is there anyone looking for me? The way I am looking for my past? The way I am trying to find myself?

Will anyone even come for me? They may be looking for me still. After all, I was found unconscious on the beach. Perhaps my home is far from here.

But does anyone even want me back? I've been waiting for so long- How much more-'

"Hey, are you the guy whom everyone calls Jon Snow?"

I jolt violently; the glasses on my nose almost fall off. I quickly adjust them, but my clumsy hands set it askew. The lenses are blurred from the steam as well. Again.

A young man stands leaning on the doorframe with his hands folded across his chest. He checks me out, and I suddenly feel very susceptible as his eyes move over my figure.

He saunters over to me and placing his hand on my, mind you, not that bulging tummy, he smirks, "You look nothing like him, though."

I choose to remain silent.

Suddenly my vision goes blurry as my glasses get knocked off.

"Ouch!" I yelp, and instantly I'm on my hands and knees trying to find my precious spectacles.

"Where are my glasses?" I groan helplessly, or rather, both blindly and helplessly, as my trembling hands rummage every inch of the cemented floor as best as they can.

"I doubt whether carrots and cucumbers seem different to you without your glasses, Mr..." He laughs. "Jon Snow."

"Hey!" I hear Jeff exclaim. A moment later, there's a rustling sound, and all of a sudden, I'm hauled to my feet, and my vision becomes clear.

"Oh gosh!" I puff and mop my sweaty forehead. My hands shoot up to my face, and relief washes over me on finding the glasses sitting pretty on the bridge of my nose. They are my fudging life, dammit.

"He is named Jon Snow because he came back from the dead. Not to mention his never-give-up attitude. Got it, you moron?" Jeff yells.

"Hey, forget it, Jeff, let's go back. We still have loads to do," I try to pacify him by lightly punching his shoulder. Instead, Jeff shoves me towards the stove. "How dare he insult you? He dared to insult Jon Snow! Huh! How dare he! If I named you after him, I have a frigging reason to do it, right? Don't you worry, Jon, I'll deal with him. He dared to insult Jon Snow! He dared to insult the most awesome man to ever walk this realm!"

I stand at the stove for some time, waiting to catch my breath, and soon double over with laughter at my friend and roommate's antics as Emma tries to (unsuccessfully) peel him off the new guy. "But Jeff, he never walked this realm, did he? He is a fictional character."

Jeff directs an I- am- judging- you- so- hard- right- now- I-  stood- up- for- you- and- you- betrayed- me- right- in-front- of- the- salad- you- were- tossing look my way, and I put my hands up in surrender. I mouth a sorry and throw a finger heart like I had seen the gorgeously sculpted K-pop idols do his way.

Then shaking my head at Jeff's determination to defend me and Jon Snow, his favourite character from Game of Thrones, I go back to washing some veggies. Carrots and cucumbers, ironically.

I smile at the warm feeling that Jeff's now-familiar loyalty invokes in me and return to the salad I was in the process of serving.

It is at this moment when my phone goes off with a ding in my pocket.

'Who is this? Who will message me now? Tch. Should I check? What if it's something-'

My heart skips a beat and starts racing, and I quickly dry my hands on the nearby towel.

'Who might it be? Is it someone who wants to claim me? Am I finally going back home?'

My hands fumble a bit as my fingers clumsily type the password. The message that pops up not only bewilders me, but it is also one of the most bizarre messages in my whole life. Scratch that, my entire newfound life, I think in exasperation.

"Agent 23, you have been activated."

' Wait, WHAT?!'

{ Chapter Word Count- 1318 words
Total Word Count- 1670 words }