This morning I awoke to a rather large black suitcase which wasn't mine next to me. I thought at first perhaps I had stumbled into the wrong room and someone the receptionist had programmed the key card to the same as another room, the only thing that convinced me this wasnt the case was the jacket on the back of the chair which was definetly mind and not something I had been wearing so must have been there prior to my drunken night out. I looked at my phone and there was 4,800 twitter and facebook notifications and 14 missed calls. I was concerned given that i only have 98 friends how the hell could I have gotten this much attention, had there been a news article about me, perhaps my lottery ticket had won and my identity released but surely not prior to letting me know?
As i went through the tweets it was a lot of random people saying how amazingly cool I was and wish I would retweet them and some mentions of a band called cash and eddy. I wasn't sure what to do so I logged onto my ipad and begin a search for Cash and Eddy. This brought up a host of links to music which was amazing, like a cross between Stone Roses and Flo Rida it touched various genres and was the best i had heard since, well ever. I was beginning to get concerned I was being watched like some bizarre MTV prank show but surely they wouldnt have gone to that much effort. Next stop my RBS bank app which showed my account balance with 8 more zeros after the initial 4 numbers than I had ever had in my account. Ok now I was panicking, dialing my friends numbers one after the other they all asked who I was and had no recollection of me but seemed very excited that I was calling them and curious as to how I had their number. My wife wasn't answering so I called her at work and she again had no knowledge of who I was
"but Sara where is our baby Kevin?"
"Who is Kevin?"
my heart sank as she hung up on me with the threat of the police if i didnt stop making these outlandish claims. Now i'm thinking this is a dream surely my whole life has changed where do I go what do I do. The door went and I answered to a rather fat balding man with a nice suit on.
"Hey superstar why didnt you answer my calls?"
"Who the fuck are you? Why the fuck do all my friends think im some superstar they have never met? and what the fuck have you done with my kid?"
"Nice one mate, you been snorting a bit too much last night? remember we are on radio 1 in two hours so you best get up and hope you have done a track for the live lounge?"
I turned away and went to the bathroom, sweating i started to run the tap and noticed the stamp on the back of my hand from the club last night. Ok so I definetly remember the club but since that i just came back and went to sleep so how has this happened. Having washed I returned to the room and on the bed was an outfit I wouldnt even consider wearing if you paid me and three other strangers all rushing around and saying sit here we need to sort your hair and make up. I went along with it and they all left. Glancing in the mirror I looked like a fucking tool with skinny jeans and a loose top my short hair spiked with make up that made me look like an extra from jersey shore. The fat bloke ushered me down the stairs and through the kitchen into the sunlight and then hurredly into the back of a BMW with blacked out windows. On arrival at the studio I started to really begin to get annoyed and my brain felt like it might explode. I bolted out the car and ran down the street but crowds began to stare at me and approach me some screaming my name others simply tugging at their pockets for their camera phone. I couldn't get away and under a mass of people i passed out.
I woke up tied to a bed. My wrists hurt and there was a string of light coming in from a tiny window high up the wall. The fat bloke was there and began to speak
"OK so we think someone gave you some drugs last night and you have amnesia. the restraints are for your safety as you wouldn't settle down and kept shouting out Kevin every two seconds. I'm trying to get the best doctors here and then we can get to the bottom of this, just hold in there mate"
I was going to reply but i didnt a single tear trickled down my face and i turned to rub it into the overly soft pillow my head was resting on. A doctor arrived and entered the room with a notepad and a recording device. We went over all the events of my life I could remember in detail which to me was a full history of everything from fingering Bridget Bell in first year to having a chat with a weirdo in the toilets last night. That is when it dawned on me, I had left my drink on the side when i went to the cubicle and he was there when I came out. He must have drugged me.
CCTV images showed the man leaving the club and entering a taxi. I got a phone call at my apartment (well what they told me was my apartment) to give me the address. Its amazing what giving a private investigator £5k will do in 4 hours. The guys name was Mr D Incarnet. I went to the address and knocked the door which swung open. I entered and walked to the lounge at the bottom of the hallway which i could see a faint blue light eminating from. On the chair was the man from last night:
He explained to me that I had offered him my talent for a simple normal life with good friends and a loving wife and child. He had taken away all my skills and left me with the imprint of this life but nothing more as the deal was only for my life so far. I could not breathe, all my memories were false, i have no life this is me. The door slammed shut and I fell, for hours I fell until finally i landed on a rock hard table. The rest of eternity this would be my home, caring for people that don't know I exist.
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