My eyes were drooping, but I wasn't going to fall asleep with him on the couch. Dinner was fine; he seemed to like my leftover chicken and rice. He sipped on three cups of tea and then we settled on the sofa we were on at the moment. There wasn't much conversation going on now, but dinner was a time he couldn't shut up. He asked me a million questions about myself and I tried to answer them as evasively as possible. I didn't need a best friend out of him, I just wanted his crazy ass not to kill me.

"I think I'm gonna head up," I announced, "I got an early start. You should get some rest too." He nodded and turned off the television.

"Thank you," he said softly. I nodded as I stood.

"Just don't steal anything, okay?" I started toward the stairs and I sensed him following suit. "Where are you going?" I turned around and he was right behind me. I could practically feel the warmth that was finally coming from his previously frozen body.

"What do you mean?" he asked dumbly, "Don't we sleep upstairs?" I raised a brow.

"We?" I inquired, "No, dude, we don't sleep upstairs; I do. You sleep on the couch." I pointed behind him and he looked over at the brown sofa like he never saw it before.

"I can't sleep on that," he whined, "It'll kill my back."

"How would you know, Mr. I don't know my name?" I quipped, "You might love sleeping on couches for all you know." He pursed his lips in a disbelieving manner.

"I seriously doubt that," he grumbled.

"Doubt all you want," I told him, "But there's no doubt in my mind that you're sleeping down here." I turned and headed up the stairs. "Goodnight, John Doe."

"Who's that?" I heard him ask as I rolled my eyes. I couldn't help but smile though. His lack of memory and stupidty was amusing, at the very least. He wasn't that bad on the eyes either when he pouted or whined. As annoying as both were, I couldn't help but feel charmed by his presence...

Maybe it's because he's the first white guy I've found the least bit attractive in a while. Hell, maybe it's because he's the first guy in a while who has brought a smile to my face without even trying.

Maybe I just needed some dick in my life because it has been so long.

Whatever. Crazy was downstairs and I was laying in bed with my door locked and my knife in my hand. I prayed about six times for my safety and the safety of my cat, who was sleeping at the foot of my bed. Little Bob was looking mighty cozy, but I couldn't have been more uncomfortable. What was he doing downstairs? Why was it so quiet? Was he robbing me? Was he watching me? Did he snore? Why did he look so freakin' familiar.

My mind wouldn't shut the fuck up and my body was dying. Sleep. I just wanted to sleep. I had to be up by three in order to make it to work on the bus on time. Why Lord? Why not on my day off? Why during one of my earliest shift are you torturing me like this?

There was a knock suddenly at my door and as I glance at the clock, it's almost nine o'clock, not even an hour since I've been laying here. There's another knock. I sighed and crawled out of bed. I held my hand and knife out as I slowly unlocked the door just a crack.

"What?" I whispered, annoyed by his presence at my door. He pouted.

"I can't sleep on that thing," he complained, "My sides are aching and I can only sleep on my side on that couch." I stared at him.

"I've only got one bed and I'm not sharing it with you," I quickly dismissed the idea, "Sleep on the floor."

"It's hardwood," he whined again.

"Then make it soft," I reasoned, "Take some cushions from the couch-"

"Oh my god..." he sighed, "I won't touch you, I swear."

"I didn't say that you would," I lied, because the thought of being rape had definitely crossed my mind. He was cute, but not that damn cute. "I just don't want to share a bed with a complete stranger." He seemed to have spaced out as he followed his gaze to my hand.

"Is that a knife?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes," I confirmed. "Just in case."

"What?" he asked. "Is that for me?"

"Maybe," I said, "If you get crazy on me."

"I got beat up and robbed," he reminded, "I think I'm the last person you need to fear."

"And I think that I need to watch my back when strange white boys appear into my neighborhood and sleepover."

"I know that this doesn't happen often," he stated calmly.

"No, I always have beat up and bruised motherfuckers running through my crib on a daily basis." He sighed and I yawned.

"You need to relax, Sash," he told me, "I may not know my name, but I know I'm not some psycho rapist."

"First off, I said my friends call me Sash, so it's Sasheirah to you," I griped, "Secondly, I don't know you, fool. Hell, you don't know you, so just take yourself downstairs and relax a little. You're wasting precious sleeping time." I shut the door without a second thought and double checked to make sure it was locked before slipping back under my sheets.

I wasn't usually that impatient, but my well has run dry in the mist of my exhaustion. I didn't have time to baby sit a grown ass ungrateful man. He can't sleep on the couch? He's lucky he's in a warm house after a warm shower and warm food and a warm hearted woman did his body good and is still trying to handle his business. I should've left his pale ass in the street and let the wolves get him.

I never prayed so much in my life. It was taking everything in me to not tell him to get out and figure his own shit out. I'm too good of a Christian woman sometimes.

I groaned as an annoying sound disrupted my thoughts. It was my cell phone's alarm going off and I was trying to convince myself it was wrong. I didn't sleep at all. It was impossible. When did I doze off? It felt like I blinked and the alarm was going off.

As I peeled open my eyes, it was still dark out, the street light illuminating my room. I could use ten more hours of sleep, but I needed to get up and get this fool out of my house as soon as possible. That was enough motivation to get me into the shower and dressed within an hour before I rushed down the stairs. As I turned around and spotted him on the couch, I almost laughed.

There he was, sprawled out on the couch with a blanket halfway on the floor as his legs hung over the arm of the sofa and his other limbs draped over his face. His mouth was hanging open and he snored so lightly that I probably wouldn't have heard it if it wasn't so dead out.

"Yo," I called, kicking his foot with my own. He didn't move. "Dude, get up!" I pulled his leg and he weakly kicked me away and smacked his lips. "Get the fuck up, motherfucker!" My voice was booming and he groaned in protest.

"Shut up," he mumbled and I scoffed.

"Get up," I demanded, slapping his legs completely off the couch. He woke with a jump and whimpered.

"It's too early," he whined. "It's still dark out."

'It's four o'clock," I informed him, "I gotta get to the hospital and you have to come with me and get checked out."

"No," he childishly recoiled into a sitting fetal position, "I don't wanna get up."

"You don't have a choice," I said as I made my way over to the kitchen. I grabbed a can of Slim Fast from the fridge and I grabbed him a bottle of Pepsi. "C'mon," I called as he slowly peeled himself from the floor. "We got a bus to catch." I sat on the sofa he once occupied and reached beneath it, grabbing my boots and nursing shoes. Then it hit me.

He doesn't have any shoes.

"What?" he asked as I stared at his socked covered feet.

"I forgot you didn't have any shoes," I groaned in distress, "Fuck." I shook my head.

"You don't have a car?" he asked innocently and I looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"That piece of shit broke down," I informed him bitterly, "Did I not walk by you when you were calling for help?" He shrugged.

"Sorry, I didn't even think about that," he told me softly and I immediately felt bad.

"Look, I'm sorry," I sighed, "I'm tired and frustrated."

"I guess that's my fault." I looked at him with a weak smirk.

"Ya think?" He didn't say anything as I stood and walked over to the house phone. I dialed the number I had memorized for some reason and it immediately picked up.

"Mike's Cabs," a man answered, sounding as tired as I felt. I groaned and looked back at him, this familiar and unfamiliar face, who had taken a seat on the sofa and began folding up my blanket. I shook my head and ordered up a cab that had guaranteed me thirty minutes. After I hung up, he stood and looked up at me curiously.

"Do you happen to have a jacket I could burrow?" he asked cautiously, as if he thought I'd blow up at any minute. I rolled my eyes. He should be scared. That was a thirty dollar cab ride, for sure, and he didn't have a penny to help me pay for it.

I couldn't really blame him, but I was annoyed to have this money flowing out of my pockets. I now have to buy him shoes too.

"Yeah, I got a couple," I said tiredly as I walked over to the closest in my dining room. I dug through it and found my old college hoodie and a black leather jacket my ex had left behind. As he pulled the hoodie over his head he smirked as he read the bold letters.

"Temple University?" he inquired and I nodded. "Cool."

"I guess..."

"Yeah, I don't think I did the whole college thing..." he mumbled in thought, "I don't know... It doesn't feel like I have."

"College isn't for everybody," I said, "I wanted to drop out a million times."

"Maybe I dropped out," he wondered, "What if I dropped out?"

"I don't know," I answered irritably, "Apparently you didn't stop to take self defense classes." My shot at his beating didn't do anything but annoy him.

"We all can't carry around pocket knives."

"Maybe you should," I retorted, "It might keep you from getting your ass whooped and bothering innocent young nurses."

"Probably..." he agreed disinterestedly, "Well, at least I get a nice leather jacket out of it." He shrugged on the black coat and modeled in it for a moment. I shook my head, but smiled as he struck different poses. He grabbed his crotch and 'hee-hee'-ed Michael Jackson style. I had to laugh.

"You are so silly," I smiled.

"Well, I now know one thing about myself," he smirked, "And I made you smile." I shook my head.

"You're also cheesy," I added smartly, "Don't forget whiny."

"Oh, can't forget that," he sarcastically agreed. "I guess that makes me sarcastic too."

"I suppose." I looked at him for a moment and he looked me over too. I took in his smirk and the way his teeth peaked out from his mouth. His small pink mouth with good sized lips. He was handsome and stubble covered and had the nicest blue eyes I've ever taken the time to look at... God, I'm so damn cheesy. I sound like some back in the day boyband singing about twinkles and -

"Holy..." I clamped my hand over my mouth right after a gasp escaped my lips. He looked at me curiously and smirked.

"What?" He smiled and his teeth were bright and straight like they were on all those magazines and I wondered how I didn't see it before. Those eyes, that smile... his cheesy lines. Jesus Christ, it was the making of a boy bander.

"You're Justin Timberlake!" I exclaimed. I was freaking out and confused. I wasn't his biggest fan, or his closet fan for that matter, but he was standing in my dining room, staring at me like I had three heads.

"Justin Timberlake?" he questioned and shrugged. "Is that a good thing?"

"Man, you're fuckin' rich!" I laughed, "And famous, for that matter."

"What?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," I confirmed, "Oh my god, what are you doing down here?"

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," Justin shook his head, "I don't know a Justin Timberlake."

"But you're him, you just don't remember," I sighed, "This is so... bangin'."

"How is this... bangin'?" he asked, "I don't know who this cat is and you're squealing and saying I'm rich."

"You are... like millions," I gushed, "You are so paying me back for this cab."

"I don't have any money," he reasoned, "I don't have a wallet or credit cards or anything."

"You're gonna get that back," I smiled reassuringly, "I'm sure there's like a search crew out there looking for you."

"I... I don't understand," Justin told me sadly, "If I'm who you say I am, how could I forget that? How could I not know I'm rich and famous? And if I'm so famous and rich, why didn't have ... body guards or something?" I shrugged.

"I don't know and it doesn't matter," I smirked, "You're gonna be okay really soon."

"How?"

"Because you're not a John Doe. People know you. Everybody knows you."

"Then why didn't you say something before?" he asked.

"I thought you looked familiar, but I didn't quite put it together. How was I suppose to guess that Justin Timberlake would be in the hood."

"The hood?"

"You're in the heart of North Philly," I informed him, "Did you think you got robbed by butterflies and ponies, fool?" He just stared at me and blinked and the look of relief I thought he'd have was nowhere in sight. "What is your problem? You know who you are now."

"That's just a name," he said, "I'm not just a name."

"I know, but it's a step up," I smiled, "Way up." I patted his shoulder and walked over to the closet to grab my jacket as a beep outside sounded. It was the cab and my day was looking so much brighter, even with the snow piling high and the sky being dark as ever.

"I like that color," Justin told me softly, "It looks good on you." I looked down at the baby blue jacket I wore and looked back at him.

"Thanks." I zipped up his coat like I was his mama and kicked my Sponge Bob slippers at his feet. "Put these on for now. The car ride will save us a lot snow, so these will get you to the hospital." He nodded and put them on, smiling softly.

"These are awesome," he chuckled, "Who is this guy?" I looked up at him in disbelief.

"Sponge Bob," I informed him, "Sponge Bob Square Pants."

"Hmm..." he mumbled thoughtfully, "Sponge Bob." I giggled and took his arm, leading toward the door.

"I think we should get that head of yours checked out too," I told him jokingly and he gave me a little curve of his lips.

"We don't have to go to the hospital for you to check out my head." He winked for effect and I slapped his arm.

"You are fresh," I reprimanded as we stepped outside and I locked the door. "Add that to your list."

"Done," he assured as we slowly made our way down to the double parked taxi. He held the door for me before slowly slipping inside afterwards.

"Temple University Hospital," I informed the cab driver and he nodded and started off. I turned to Justin and he was already staring at me. He didn't even bother trying to turn away and I became self-conscious. "Is there something on my face?"

"No," he answered quickly, "You've got really long eyelashes, is all."

"You act like you've never seen eyelashes before."

"I'm guessing I have," he said, "Maybe they just didn't curve the way that yours do." I looked down at my hands, fighting away the feeling of flattery.

"Or maybe you just can't remember," I challenged.

"Maybe," I heard him say before I felt a poke in my side. I jumped and slapped his hand.

"Why'd you do that?" I irritably inquired as he smirked at me. Him and these half ass smiles were irking my soul.

"I wanted you to look up at me," he said simply.

"Why didn't you just say that?"

"Because I've learned in the last twenty-four hours that you like to give directions and not take him," he smartly replied, "Besides, I now know you're ticklish."

"I am not," I denied and he poked me again, eliciting a regrettable giggle from my mouth.

"I beg to differ." I glared at him and he gave me another smirk before licking his lips. I stared at his mouth for a moment before glancing up at his eyes. He stared back.

"Call me Matt," he suddenly requested and I was uber confused.

"What?" I asked.

"Call me Matt," he repeated, "I don't like the name Justin."

"And Matt's better?"

"I really like Matthew," he shrugged, "Matt sounds like a cool guy and I think I'm a cool guy."

"Justin's cool," I said.

"Justin's taken," he complained, "Justin's a guy I'm supposed to be and I don't want to be who I'm supposed to be. I just wanna be, ya know? Matt's a cool new guy and that's me. Out with the old and in with the new."

"You can't just change who you are," I argued back, "You're Justin, not Matt, man. Suck it up."

"I'm Matt," he stated firmly, "I don't know a Justin and neither do you."

"I know Justin's sitting next to me right now," I quipped.

"Where 'cause I don't see him," he came back, "And you'll look crazy calling me Justin."

"What part of you're famous don't you understand?" I asked, "You can't change who you are because everybody will recognize you anyway."

"What if I ignore them?" he asked, "I can just tell them him and I look alike and I get confused with him all the time."

"That's not gonna work."

"Why not?" he whined, "You stayed with me for a whole day and didn't recognize me."

"That's because you were covered in blood and bruised when I found you. I was more amazed that your Casper ass was even in my neighborhood than anything else."

"Fine, then maybe everybody else around here will feel that way since I'm the only white person in a fifty mile radius."

"Or maybe you'll stick out like a sore thumb," I sighed, "Why am I doing this?"

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Arguing with you," I told him, "If you wanna be Matthew, or Matt or whatever, fine. Do that, but if somebody comes looking for a Justin Timberlake, you better be ready to leave."

"Fine," he huffed.

"Good," I added.

"Great," he retorted.

"Fan-fuckin'-tastic," I challenged and he glared at me.

"Whatever." I smiled, satisfied that I had won and looked out of the window as we drove up Broad Street. It was quiet for a moment until I heard my name being called.

"What?" I responded and I turned my head to look at him.

"Was I a bad guy?" Jus- excuse me, Matt asked.

"I dunno," I shrugged, "You seemed all right... Cocky, but all right." He nodded slowly and turned to stare out of the window. I looked at the back of his head for two seconds before looking back out of my own window.

Five minutes later, we were parked in front of the hospital entrance and I tapped Matthew to get his attention.

"We're here?" he asked, snapping out of his daze. I nodded and pulled money from my purse to pay the fare. I thanked the driver and climbed out of the car as Matt did the same. The automatic doors slid open as we stepped up and the white halls stretched in all directions. I looked back at Matt as he looked around with a small amount of fear on his face.

"You cool?" I asked and he nodded.

"Yeah..."

"Okay, well, we're going up the Ravis Building. Stay close to me." As soon as the words left my mouth, he was glued to my side. Even in the elevator ride up to the fourth floor he was crowding my space. There were a few glances from the passing, but no major break outs as we trailed up the hall toward the radiation department. I smiled when I saw Clarissa was the head nurse at the desk and she smiled at me before furrowing her brows as Just- fuck, Matt came up next to me.

"Hey, Clarissa," I smiled, "This here is Matt. Matt, this is Clarissa." They reached over the counter to shake hands and smiled with hello's.

"What can I do for y'all today?" She asked as I leaned over the counter.

"He's gonna need a CAT scan. He was robbed and they bruised some tissue around his rib cage," I informed her, "He suffered minor cuts and bruises and terrible memory loss. He couldn't even remember his name at first." He couldn't remember his name now, but I didn't want Clarissa confirming his damn identity.

"Okay, we'll take care of that," she assured me.

"Oh and could you possibly find him a room? I need to get down to the Women's Health Center before Tara kills me."

"A room?" Justin, the hell with Matt, asked.

"Yes, a room," I repeated, "You can't stay with me. You have to stay here until we can get family here."

"You mean the family I don't have?" I shushed him as he raised his voice.

"You have a family, they're just not here now," I softly cooed, "Calm down, okay?"

"No, you said an x-ray and that's it," he whined, "Now I need a room?"

"Did you honestly expect me to let you stay with me?"

"Yes!" he snapped, "You can't leave me here. I hate hospitals."

"You'll be fine," I annoyingly shrugged him off, "Just relax and I'll check up on you."

"No-"

"Clarissa," I interrupted him, "Page me when he gets a room to let me know the number, please?"

"Sure," she smiled.

"But what about-"

"Bye, Matthew," I said, cutting him short and hurriedly walking away.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I had the next two days off and I couldn't have been more grateful. I slept in until noon and ate some lunch before I picked up my repaired Buick. The day was looking good. Little Bob and I were cozied up on the couch for a brief moment before I remember that I needed to give that mofo a visit and buy him some shoes since I've been too busy working for the last three days to even pop in to say hello.

I also needed to give him back the clothes I found him in. I didn't wash them because I didn't know if he wanted to press charges and needed evidence. I was sure somebody was going to feel the wrath of his expensive attorney if news got out that Justin Timberlake had been attacked.

I grabbed the plastic ACME bag I put his clothes in and gave Bob a rub down before leaving my house. It had stopped snowing, but it was still cold and white everywhere. I got to my car without slipping and as the engine fired up, I switched on the heat and put it in drive. The ride to the hospital was relaxed and warm and I waved at our parking advisor Dean as I pulled into the employee area.

Things were looking good until I reached the front desk and Clarissa shook her head at me like I had done her wrong. I slowed my jolly stroll and inched my way over to the counter.

"What?" I asked cautiously.

"Matt hasn't eaten in three days," she informed me, "He won't wash or talk." I frowned deeply.

"Why? Is he sick?" She shook her head.

"No," she answered, "Not that I know of. His scans were normal and his brain waves are fine. Memory's still shot to hell because he hasn't asked for family or friends yet."

"Okay," I said, taking in her news, "I'll go check up on him." She nods and I head up the hall to the elevator. I took it up to the seventh floor and made a left down to room 735. I knocked and got no reply so I just opened it up. I figured that I already saw him naked and there wasn't much else he could do to shock me.

"So nice of you to come by," he bitterly greeted as I slipped inside. I looked up at him on the bed and there was a tray of food in front of him that hadn't been touched.

"Why aren't you eating?" I scolded, "... Or talking for that matter."

"First off all, I do eat," he argued, picking up a small plate that had Jell-O pieces on it. "I only like the gelatin here."

"That's the worse thing on the menu," I scoffed. "The frozen yogurts pretty good."

"Well, I don't get a menu, I get this," he gestured to the chicken and vegetables on his tray, "When I had a bite of that chicken, I had to cough because it was so dry." I smiled.

"You're getting three, free square meals a day, my friend," I pointed out, "Beggars can't be choosers."

"I didn't beg anybody to be here," he pouted, "You abandoned me."

"Oh, hush," I waved him off, "I'm taking you shopping today." His eyes lit up.

"Really?" he gushed.

"Now, calm down," I told him, "Just for some shoes at Payless. It's not that deep."

"Anything's better than laying around here." I walked over to his bedside and lowered the barrier so that he could get out. I helped him stand and took a good whiff of him.

"Boy, you must wash your stank behind," I coughed. "You funk." He rolled his eyes, but blush was creeping into his cheeks.

"Well, Nurse Betty, get the sponges." I laughed drily.

"Do I look like I'm working?" I asked rhetorically as I buzzed a nurse from his bed's call button. "Nurse Shannon will be scrubbing your Doodleberries." He chuckled and two seconds later, Shannon was in the room, gleaming. She was always too damn happy for me.

"What are you doing out of bed, Mr. Matt?" she cheerfully inquired and I almost gagged as I took in her bushell of brown curls and bright green eyes. Her wide grin made her look like a clown and her spotless white scrubs amazed me with their crisp look. How much starch did the bitch use?

I looked at Justin to see if he was thinking the same thing, but by the way he was checking her out, I doubted it. I grimaced and looked back at Shannon. She was young. Probably my age. We went to Temple together, but she placed into Jefferson's nursing program a year before me and kicked ass. Top of her class. I wondered if she ever got pissed off that she was still changing bed pans and giving sponge baths like the rest of us.

"Well, Nurse..." Justin trailed off and Shannon smiled even wider. Her face was going to stretch out, I'm sure. Lots of wrinkles and lines...

"It's Shannon," she sweetly supplied and Justin nodded and smiled.

"That's quite a name there," he stupidly said as I narrowed my eyes. Her name was Shannon, not much to it if you ask me. My name's Sasheirah and the only comment I got was 'Sasheirah? Hwo the hell do you spell that?'

"He needs a bath," I told her irritably, "And quickly, please, he has to get some things." Shannon looks at me and I don't miss the damper in her smile. I wasn't her favorite person either, not that we've been in stiff competition and at each other's throats. I guess we just have that gut feeling that we could never be friends.

"Okay, I can do that," she told me as she moved to a storage closet in the corner of Justin's room. She pulled out some soap and other supplies and I stood and watched as she made her way over to Justin.

"Do I just undress?" he asked her and I wanted to roll my eyes and say No, fool, you bathe with your clothes on.

"Yeah, you can just-" Shannon cut herself short as she cleared her throat. "Umm... Sasheriah, maybe you should wait outside."

"Oh... right," I mumbled as I walked over to the door, "I'll be down the hall." I exited the room and shut the door behind me, rolling my eyes.

Men.

All they need is another pretty face and a thinner waist before they forget about who had their back in their time of need. What happened to all that bullshit about wanting to live with me and being 'abandoned'? What happened to my long lashes and the way they curve? What about-

Wait, what the fuck am I doing? I don't care. Justin can do whatever he wants, but I hope he knows and appreciates the fact that I'm the one who took him in and got him checked up and fed and clothed.

I decided to just wait outside the door because I'd be too tempted to leave and enjoy my day alone than spend my money on Justin. Besides, I had to give him this bag of crap so I wouldn't forget and end up taking it back home again. I just paced back and forth for what seemed like an eternity before the door finally opened and Shannon stepped out, smiling to herself until she saw me.

"He's changing," she told as she shut the door behind her. I smiled, a closed mouth, plastered smile, and waved her off.

"Oh, that's fine," I assured cheerfully, "I've seen him naked already." I don't wait for a reaction, I just walk around her and step into the room, locking the door behind me. I turned in time to see Justin put his sweats on beneath his gown before I I walked over to his beside and placed his ACME bag of bloody clothes onto his mattress.

"That's in case you wanna press charges or something." I informed him, "Don't wash it. Evidence...blah, blah, blah..."

"I don't think I will," Justin sighed as he pulled his gown off completely, revealing his bruised up sides and cut stomach. I think his scars made his body look a little hotter and harder than normal and I was almost sad when he put on his shirt.

"Really?" I asked curiously and he shrugged as he slipped on the hospital issued slippers that were plain black and looked a whole lot more normal than my Sponge Bob ones.

"Yeah..." he breathed, "I just... I dunno. I can't remember my name, let alone the accident. Besides, I just think... I dunno. Maybe I just need to have a clean slate and let things go."

"You were beat into a loss of memory," I reminded.

"Yeah, but I don't look that bad," he smirked, "Got all my teeth and some bruised ribs. I got a little lump... well, lumps, on my head, but other than that... I feel good."

"Don't forget the nice purple ring around your eye and a cut on your lip and the swollen brow tissue..."

"Minor details," he dismissed, "I can walk without that much assistance." He limped over to a silver, sterilized cane. I raised a brow.

"That's your assistance?" I asked.

"It's better than the walker they were trying to give me," he smirked, "It eases the pain. My legs are starting to kill me." I sadly nodded.

"Well, we'll just work with it, gramps," I joked, "I got my car out of the shop, so you won't be walking much."

"Cool," he smiled, "I'm glad your car's fixed."

"Fixed enough," I mumbled as I walked over to retrieve his jacket from a hook on the wall as well as his hoodie. I helped him put them on over his clothes before holding the door open for him. He slowly went through and I followed behind before walking alongside him.

"Was it that busted?" Justin asked and I shrugged.

"Carborator... Orborator... I dunno," I smirked, "It's just old..."

"Yeah, I know," he said, "Maybe I could take a look at it."

"Why?" I asked, "You know anything about cars?"

He shrugged. "I don't know... I guess we'll see." We reached the elevator doors and I laughed.

"We won't be seeing anything on my car," I told him, "You're not having any memory testing experiments on my car."

"Fine, fine," he sighed, "But I think I do know how to work a car. I feel like I do."

"Well, you and your feelings can wait until you buy your own car to fuck around on," I said as we stepped onto the arriving elevator. I pressed the lobby button and we rode down silently. As we reached the main lobby, Clarissa smiled and waved goodbye as Justin and I returned the gesture as we exited the hospital. We made our way to my car and I helped him inside before strolling to the driver's side.

I glanced over at Justin as I placed my seat belt on and he stared out of the window.

"You okay?" I asked as I placed the key into the ignition.

"Yeah," he replied as I turned the key and put the car in reverse. "No."

"What's wrong?" I distractedly asked as cautiously backed out before placing myself into drive.

"I know that losing my memory sucks and all," he began and I nodded as I turned onto Broad and headed north.

"Yeah, it does," I agreed.

"I'm suppose to be sad and wondering, ya know? It's been about four days... Maybe more since I can't remember anything before seeing you, and nobody has come for me. Nobody has come looking and there's been no news... I've watched every channel and nobody has said a word about me or Justin Timberlake."

"Well, maybe you disappear from time to time and nobody's worrying..." I tried to reason, but he just sighed deeply beside me.

"Not even a phone call?" he wondered out loud, "I think I'd call. Hell, if I had your number, I would've called you every day for the last three days I haven't seen you. Just to see if things were fine and to make sure you were actually coming back..." He stressed the word enough to make me glance from the road and roll my eyes at him.

"I was working."

"Whatever," he grumbled, "See, that's the point, I instinctively wanted to do that which means that if I'm this Justin Timberlake character, I probably would've been the same way."

"I dunno, man," I told him honestly, "Maybe something happened before you left... Maybe... Maybe they did call and you were mad before you came here and they figured you'd call when you weren't mad."

"Or maybe I'm a douchebag and everybody I know hopes I'm dead."

"Damn, Debby Downer, maybe you need to fuckin' relax," I said, laughing drily.

"I'm serious, Sasheirah," Justin told me earnestly, "Maybe I'm an asshole and this is somebody's way of helping me redeem myself."

"By getting you beat up?"

"No, by erasing my head and allowing me to start again," he clarified. "Maybe I'm not meant to be this Justin guy anymore."

"But you are him," I said, "You aren't dead, just forgetful."

"Maybe I'm forgettable," he continued, "Maybe I'm here now because this were I'm suppose to be."

"You are not suppose to be here, Justin," I scoffed, "You are meant to be on the Hollywood Hills somewhere with your ten dogs and six cars and private jets." I pulled up to a red light and turned and look at him. "You're not suppose to be riding passanger side of my broke down Buick with bruises all over your baby face." He turned and looked at me.

"Maybe I like riding passanger side," he smiled dreamily, "Maybe I like riding with you." I stared at him for a moment before a blaring horn snapped my mind back into reality. I hit the gas and continued down the road.

"You had a bad accident," I said, "You stepped into the wrong neighborhood at the wrong time and met the wrong people-"

"Who led me to the right person for help," he reasoned, "What the hell are the chances that the first face I see is that of a beautiful, young nurse?" I tried not to be flattered by the beautiful part, but my stomach ached with surpressed giggles.

"You're not that far from Temple," I argued, "A lot of us nurses live around here."

"Your car broke down," he shot back, "Of all the days your car breaks down the moment that I need help. If you were driving, you would've driven right past me."

"It was the worst day of snowing, Justin!" I shook my head, "You're being ridiculous."

"You're being too... uptight," Justin frowned, "Why can't you just go with me on this."

"Because it's stupid." He scoffed. "Justin, it's stupid."

"My name is Matt," he corrected as he looked out of the window. I turned on Summerdale Road and sighed.

"Your name is Justin Timberlake and you need to accept that," I told him through gritted teeth.

"Your name is Sasheirah and you are not the name police," he said in the same mock tone, "And you need to accept that." I rolled my eyes as I pulled into the NorthWest Shopping Plaza and found a parking spot in front of Payless.

"Whatever," I groaned, turning off the car and getting out. I stomped over to his side and helped him out, despite his stubborn grunts about being able to do it himself. He settled with his cane as I locked all the doors and led him inside the store. The door chimed and we were greeted as I headed down the men's section.

"They're having a BOGO sale," Justin observed as he looked at the sign, "Buy One, Get One 50% off."

"You can pick out two pairs of something," I reluctantly told him, "Don't get crazy because we're going to Target to get you some clothes." He nodded and began his search as I sat on the edge of a bench.

"You're not gonna get anything?" Justin asked.

"No, not here," I said, "Maybe some undies from Target." He looked up at me and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Nice," he smiled and I rolled my eyes, but smiled to myself.

"You can add perverted to your list too." He laughed and nodded.

"Done."