SHE DOESN'T REMEMBER

“Where am I?” My voice comes out as a hoarse whisper, as my head continued to swivel in all directions, looking for something that would at least give me a clue to where I was. I wince as the sudden movement causes my head to bang, and bile to rush to my throat-- and from the scratchy feeling in my throat, I could tell it was not the first time this had happened.

 The bare, stone walled room was very unfamiliar, as were the plain satin sheets on the king sized bed that threatened to swallow me whole, my bed back home certainly did not require me to go around it before I could climb in.

“Where am I?” I ask again, this time a bit louder than a whisper, and I was met with the same echo of my croaky voice, no answer to my question.

My head banged and the world tilted, and no matter how I tried, I could not remember what happened few hours prior, but that was not the only reason my mind screamed at me that I was genuinely and absolutely fucked.

I find an adjoining door wide open, and scramble from the bed as I struggle to climb out of it and into the open door, I find it is a large and plain white bathroom, I could not complain since the toilet bowl was right there, as the contents of my stomach threatened to spill out, sticking my head in it, I groan and dry heave, I must have done this a few times because my stomach is empty. I groan and pull myself up to a sitting position on the strange toilet floor, groaning, and wishing I didn’t drink so much.

 “Again, where the hell am i?” My voice comes out croaky when I ask the question out loud, even to my ears. There was no answer of course, I was alone in the room that was absolutely and certainly not mine, I would know, this room was too minimalist for me, I preferred the exaggerated, over the top, frilly decorations.

 Groaning once more, I picked myself up from the floor, noting that I was in a white satin night dress that I did not own, as I would never again, wear something so simple. Then where was I? And who dressed me up?

 I wince as a fresh wave of headache hits me, I clutch at my head as my eyes scan this plain environment for a clue on how I got there, or my phone at least, when I don’t find it, i sigh with relief,

 “Maybe I am in one of those dreams where phones don’t exist.” I tell myself,and it actually made a lot o sense to my still hung over mind, since it equally explained where this plain stone walls where.

 Unless... this was a movie set, I gasped, looking around with fresh set of eyes, the realization jolted me, I never brought my phone on set with me, that was one of the reasons I was named the most professional actress of the year, every year on every magazine that mattered. Although people don’t know this, my phone doesn’t follow me because I have no one calling me, asides my manager, and he handled the rest of my calls.

 “Gregory?” I call out, my voice echoes back to me in the stoned space. No response from my manager.

Clenching my head in my open hands, I walk to what I hoped was the door to the outside world. I force my mind to cough up the details I was missing, like the last few hours, or maybe even more.

 I remember getting a call from Gregory telling me that I got a role in the film, Because she will, I had been so happy about it, who would not be? It was predicted to be even bigger than the Titanic, and every actress wanted it. Directed by James Holt himself, he personally hand picked the casts, which meant, if you got picked, you were worth your shit, that was better than all the rows of awards hat sat in my award room back at home.

Yet, i had no one to share my good news with, so I drank alone. Was that what happened? I feel like something else was missing, something very important. Finally, I spot my sparkly cased phone half slid under the stone like door, like someone had kicked it by accident, if they were very drunk.

I groan when I reach down to pick it up, my head felt like it was going to roll off my neck, I cuss under my breath, I was never a big drinker, but I was celebrating, I guess that was my excuse for going overboard.

Pulling the giant door open with one hand, and scrolling through my barely a list-- contact list, I find Gregory’s phone number, he was in my favorites and my emergency contact, he did that when I renewed my contract with him, the only time he showed any form of emotion towards me that was more than professional.

 I find zero bars when I try to call him, quirking my head to the side, I try again, I have heard from my co actors that most times cell service on sets were bad since we could sometimes be in locations that had no cell phone towers.

 “Great.” I mutter, leaving the plain room behind.

In front of me was a long stone hallway, it looked exactly like the room, the stone carvings looked realistic as well, it must have been one expensive set. That bothered me, I wrapped up all my shootings a while ago, giving me time to rest in case I got Because she will, and that was not set in the stone ages.. did I perhaps crash into a set I wasn’t starring in?

One bar dinged on my phone screen, and I quickly dial Gregory, as it rings, my eyes dart everywhere around me, how was there not a single soul on set? it rings to the end with no response.

“Huh?” That was even more worrisome, he had never done that before, my calls were the most important to him, so he always answered, no matter what he was doing or what the time said. Did something happen to him?

I walk deeper into the stone walled hallway, looking for someone to explain to me what was going on, my fingers still worked, dialing his phone number again, and again, and again, all fourteen times I get the same thing, Gregory was not answering my calls, for the first time in thirteen years.

 He once let it slip that he took his phone to the bathroom because he wasn’t sure when I was going to call, whatever happened to him must have been terrible. My brows tug with worry, what was going on beyond this stone walls?

 I quicken my pace, looking for an exit this time, and I do find one, a double door at the end of the hallway, finally, I huff, getting into a slow jog in the direction of the doors, and when I burst through it, I find myself at a balcony, staring into endless fields of flowers.

 “Where the fuck is this place?” I mutter angrily,

“And everyone else believes you do not so much as cuss.” A deep voice says from my right, startling me.

I am even more startled when I see who was there with me, the most gorgeous man I had ever laid my eyes upon, how I managed to miss him earlier was something I would not understand.

I cross my arms over my chest, hoping to hide my perking nipples from his smothering blue eyes.

 “And who might you be? And where is this place?” I had other questions but I decide to keep them until after he answered these few.

He cocked his head to the side, a puzzled look on his angular jaw,

“Miss Rachel Greene, are you telling me you don’t remember the events of last night?” I loved the way my name tumbled out of his lips, but I quickly looked down, scanning my body for signs, I would know would I not? If something happened between this handsome stranger and I?

 “No.. you know my name.” I muse out loud,

I see him struggle not to roll his blue eyes at me,

 “The entire country knows your name, and you can’t tell me you don’t remember signing a contract to be my Sub and live here with me for six months.”