Leonardo da Vinci International Airport at 2 o'clock in the afternoon was teeming. Masses of travellers strolled through the terminals, a haze of people he ignored. The faint chattering went in one ear and out of the other. The Vitruvian Man was carved out of a big ball of wood in the middle of one of the terminals, yet something so lavish, imposing and paramount still failed to catch his eye.

He proceeded to make his way through the halls, one of his hands clutched around the handle of his trolley while his other was wrapped around his phone, which hadn't stopped ringing ever since he landed. At first, his parents were the only ones calling. In order for them to stop calling, he picked up and assured them that he was fine. When he'd gotten that over with, he vowed to not pick his phone up again.

But then his friends started calling. One call turned into twenty fast, and by the twentieth time he threw his phone into the nearest trash can he'd passed. He didn't need a phone—not on this trip.

The Italian sun was boiling in July, sweat starting to bead at the back of his neck as soon as he stepped out of the airport. The weather was humid and his clothes started to stick to his skin greasily as he pushed his sunglasses onto his nose in search for a cab. As opposed to New York's notorious yellow cabs, the place seemed packed with white cars and he presumed these were the taxi's.

However, a wicked black LaFerarri Spider pulled up to the curb in the blink of an eye, stopping right where he was standing. He couldn't help but stare at the dazzling car, the sleek sides, the red details and the flagrant yellow symbol of the prancing horse. And as if that wasn't enough, the person in the driver's seat was nearly as alluring: silken brown hair cropped to the shoulders, bony shoulders and big, black sunglasses that screamed overpriced. Slowly, she slid her sunglasses into her hair and viewed him with her piercing blue eyes.

He was mesmerized by her red lips and the way she peeked at him from underneath her long eyelashes. "Hai bisogno un di trasporto?" her voice was thick with the Italian accent, wringer and mostly, lust.

Albeit he hadn't understood what she'd said, he still took a step closer to the car. "I don't speak Italian."

It took the woman a while to take in his words, but when she did, a wide smile graced her lips. "I was asking whether you wanted me to drive you somewhere." The accent was definitely still there, and she'd taken her time pronouncing every word, but she was understandable.

He narrowed his eyes, knowing that she wouldn't be able to see it anyway. "Actually," he spoke, "Yes. I need to get to my hotel in Florence."

She nodded, "Ah, Firenze. I'll take you there, pretty boy." Her Italian way of saying 'Florence' was like a rhythm and it kept on echoing through his head as he carefully opened the door to the passenger's seat, propping his trolley underneath his feet. Whilst he buckled his seatbelt, the woman glided one of her hands through his hair. "What's your name, pretty boy?"

"Jason." He wrung out uncomfortably, slapping her hand away. The woman didn't seem fazed but retreated her hand and put it on the steering wheel. "I'm Pia."

But he didn't care. He wasn't here to play, he wasn't here to meet new people—he was here to find out about everything.

xxx

Three days after Pia had dropped him off by his hotel, Jason found himself seated on a terrace, sipping from his Negroni. Pia had taught him that it was one part sweet vermouth rosso, one part Campari and one part gin. It was normally served over ice and garnished with a piece of flamed orange peel.

In fact, Pia had taught him a lot. He thought that after she'd dropped him off he would never see her again, but the woman appeared in the lobby just hours later with a new set of fancy sunglasses and a skin tight dress that didn't even reach mid thigh. Pia had an amazing body, she was tall and slender, and walked like every path was a runway. Frankly, whenever she wore high heels, she even turned out two inches longer than Jason was.

She wore high heels every night whenever they went clubbing. They usually got drunk at some bar and searched for clubs when it neared one AM. So far that's all Jason did—he woke up in the afternoon, ate a grand breakfast, went into the city to sit at some tea-garden, went back for dinner and then Pia would come and his night would start. Was he interested in Pia? Not at all. Was she fun? Yes.

He was on vacation. Scratch that, he was in freaking Italy. It would be a sin to not enjoy himself after he'd spent such a big amount of money on the plane tickets and the hotel. He'd done it so he'd let loose for once, so he'd perhaps remember who had been after him during those black months. This trip was a way for Jason to find himself again, but three days in and he hasn't found anything yet other than Florence's best nightclubs and occasionally, Pia's pussy.

They hadn't done anything yet. As said before, he wasn't interested, but Pia wore short dresses and revealing fabrics and he would be lying if he said he hadn't seen it a couple of times as she fell down or danced. Who cares? He was in Italy!

Jason didn't know why he kept on hanging out with Pia, but it was nice to have a comrade in this city he didn't know at all. He didn't speak the language, he didn't know the way... it was nice. It was a distraction.

All he could think about was Alexia. Every, little, thing, reminded him of her. The drinks, the weather, Pia. It seemed like he couldn't escape her, no matter how drunk he was, no matter how many women surrounded him. His mind spun around the concept of her marrying another man, around how he was here and she was there. Something was not right. Every time he remembered Alexia's wedding with Damian, his throat closed and he felt the sudden urge to fly back. He knew it wasn't only his love for her. He knew that.

There was something else. But what?

"What is your pretty head thinking about, pulcino?"

Jason glanced at Pia, who'd taken the seat across his own. Today, she wore a skimpy pink dress and high, brown heels. Her brown sunglasses were in her hair and she had a small tote dangling off her arm. Her fierce blue eyes riveted him with as much lust and longing as she'd done that first day, but Jason never returned that gaze.

"Nothing." He mumbled, taking a sip of his Negroni. Pia raised her eyebrows but didn't pry. Instead, she sighed and her eyes cast downward to his glass. "La guarderò ogni giorno, pensando a te."

This time it was Jason's turn to raise his eyebrows. He was used to her dropping some Italian phrases here and there, but he spoke English and usually, so did she. Jason didn't have a clue about what she'd just said. "What? What did you say?"

"Nothing." She simpered, "Nothing at all, pretty boy."

He didn't care enough to ask again. After he finished his Negroni, he'd taken Pia back to the hotel. She waited in the sleeping area while he changed his clothes into something appropriate for the club. They skipped dinner and the drinking part altogether today, deciding to just get drunk at the club.

"Are you excited?" Pia asked. Jason looked at himself in the mirror, readjusting the collar of his blouse. Just like that, a jolt pierced through his head and he grabbed the side of the sink for support.

"Excited, kiddo?"

It was a male voice and Jason swore that he knew it—but that's all his mind offered him. Two words and the gut feeling that he'd heard it before.

Out of everything, this pissed him off the most. The faint reoccurring memories that weren't exactly that. Sometimes there were just flashes of the location or the person, or sounds popping into his head. It annoyed him because those flashes meant absolutely nothing. He came here to get his head sorted and his shit together, but if it kept going like this, that certainly wouldn't happen.

What if he never got his memories back? What if Jason would spend the rest of his life searching for answers?

"Fucking hell!" He spat, his fist colliding with the mirror. The once perfect reflection of him in his neat blouse broke and shattered, slivers of glass sliding onto the ground.

"Jason? Are you okay?" Pia's voice sounded from behind the locked bathroom door. "Unlock the door!" she ordered. Jason scowled at the pieces of glass, momentarily looking away so he could unlock the door. The second he did that, Pia slipped inside.

She'd changed too. The pink dress was now gone and she'd changed into a golden, glittery dress. Her always perfect face, however, had fallen, and her eyebrows were furrowed together. "What have you done?" her eyes were on his balled fist. He hadn't even realized the blood that dripped out of his knuckles until she pointed it out.

"I... got angry." He murmured, staring at his hand. Pia let out a series of words he didn't understand. "Caro, why would you hurt yourself like this?" she moved around quickly, grabbing a cloth and draping it around his wound knuckles. Jason just let her.

When she seemed to be done, she stood there with his hand in hers, her eyes fixated on Jason's. "Are you okay? Don't do that again. You'll have to pay for the mirror."

"That's fine." He said, shortly glancing at the half broken mirror and the driblets of blood. "Let's just go."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." He tried to smile and took her hand. Pia's face lit up and she followed him outside the bathroom without a single struggle.

Part of Jason felt bad for playing with her feelings like that. Whether it was just lust or more—Pia had definitely proved to him that she wouldn't say no to a kiss. Perhaps it looked like he was taking advantage of her, but he wasn't. He honestly thought she was good company and if he had to flatter her or touch her to get her to agree with him, then why wouldn't he? It wasn't his fault that there was another woman intruding his mind.

One day during this trip, he'd get over Alexia. Just like she'd gotten over him.

xxx

Everything was a blur. The room, his feelings and the time. It's been a few minutes since Pia and him had stumbled back into his hotel room, limbs entwined and throats dry. They'd gone on a limp tonight and tested their limits, drinking more than they'd ever done before. All in all, it was a fun night and Jason was glad to have Pia accompany him back to the room.

They were sprawled over the bed. Pia's leg was wrapped around his waist and her arm laid underneath the unbuttoned part of his blouse. In return, Jason had a hand placed on her ass and the other on her lower stomach. He felt sleepy. Or not. He didn't know. Was he sleepy? Who was this woman?

Oh, Pia.

"I feel funny." He croaked out laughingly, closing his eyes to block out the spinning of the room. Pia guffawed against his neck, "We're drunk, cuore mio."

"Like I don't know." He huffed irritably. Pia groaned, her arm tightening around him. "You know," she muttered in that thick accent of her, "Sono attratto da te."

"I still don't speak Italian." He murmured against her hair. Truth to be told, hearing Pia speak Italian made her ten times hotter so for his own sake he decided to not protest. Whatever she was saying—he didn't care. If it was important she'd say it in English.

"You don't have to, pretty boy." She whispered, "Sei la mia anima gemella."

"Okay." He responded. "Keep talking."

"Mi sono infatuato di te. Sei bellisimo."

And just like that, Jason slid his hand from her lower abdomen to her very sensitive folds. Pia gasped at the touch, "Oh, dio."

"That's right." He whispered, moving his other hand from her ass to her neck, forcing her to look up at him. "I'll make you feel like no one else has before. I'll make sure you remember me, pretty girl." Slowly, he glided one finger along her folds, his thumb circling on her clit. She was wet already and proceeded to pant, big, blue eyes looking up at Jason.

"Do you want this?" he urged, dipping one finger inside just so she'd get a taste. Pia's eyes widened and she nodded, "Yes!"

"Tell me how much. In Italian."

"So much." She breathed, "Ho un debole per te. Sei tutto per me."

"You'll regret this, Pia." Jason smirked, "After I'm done fucking you, you won't be able to walk straight for days."

"That's o-okay." She shakily uttered. Jason barked out a wicked laugh. He loved having control, even if it wasn't on his own life. "I'll fuck you in that perky little ass of yours. I'll fill you up with all of my cum so you'd never forget about me."

"I would never forget you."

"Alright. Remember, you asked for it."

Maybe it was because Jason had trouble controlling his own life, or because he seemed to not remember things about himself, but Jason was keen on making this woman remember every single thing he was about to do to her. He wanted her to remember this. He needed her to remember this.

xxx

It was days later when Pia questioned his motives. They were having dinner at a random restaurant, both sipping from their own Negroni. In the past days they'd fallen into a new routine which included the two having sex all night and Jason avoiding her during the day. The sex was a distraction and that was the only reason he kept doing it. At night, his thoughts were harder to bear.

"Jason?" she queried.

Jason lifted an eyebrow in response.

"I wonder..." she seemed at a loss for words and in the past days that hadn't ever happened before. Jason braced himself for the 'I love you' speech, already growing pissed. The same thing had happened with Stella and to be frankly he hadn't expected Pia to be the same. She seemed to understand the silent compromise. They had sex, he didn't get questioned.

"What are you doing here?"

"What?" He frowned, surprised. What kind of question was that?

"Why are you here, Jason?"

"It's summer break. I'm on vacation."

"Yes, but," she seemed to hesitate, "Why are you here on your own?"

"Because I wanted to be alone." He muttered, averting his gaze. He had no interest in letting Pia into his personal life.

"Really? Why are we sleeping together every night, then?" She witted back, a string of spaghetti disappearing into her mouth. Jason shrugged. "Is it a problem to you? We can quit if you want to."

"No, that's not it." She looked at her drink, "Who is the woman?"

"Who is what woman?" but pictures of Alexia already started to flash through his mind. No one could compare to her ever, and Pia was no exception.

"Don't play dumb." Pia snorted, "Women know when a man's in love. Especially when it's with someone other than herself."

Lie or don't lie? "I'm not in love." Lie.

"Jason... I know nothing about you. I don't know your last name, your age, your education, I know nothing. But I do know that you're in love with someone in America. Did she break your heart? Tell me about her."

The desire to tell Pia about Alexia was stronger than he'd expected. Somehow the words were pooled in his throat, ready to spill over. A myriad of thoughts threatened to escape his mouth but he clamped his lips shut, glaring at Pia for making a suggestion like that. Now his stupid head wouldn't stop thinking about Alexia.

"Come on, pretty boy." She tried, putting down her cutlery. Jason ran a frustrated hand through his hair, unable to stifle his words any longer. "It's none of your damn business."

"Ah, he talks. Tell me. You know you want to talk about her."

"I do not." Jason liked it better when Pia just talked in Italian. At least he didn't understand what she was saying when she did that.

Pia groaned in a very unladylike manner and leaned back against her chair as she crossed her legs. "Look," she murmured, "I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable. All I'm doing is trying to understand you. You barely speak, and when you do it's either you cursing or something sex-related. So far all we've been doing is getting drunk and ending up in bed. I'm trying to get you, pretty boy. Something's up with you. Why are you here?"

"I'm..." he shut his eyes, blocking out the thoughts about his life in New York, "Trying to sort some things out."

"Alright." Pia smiled. "We're going somewhere. So what are you trying to sort out?"

Jason hesitated before replying again, "I had an accident." He explained, suddenly overwhelmed, "And I ended up in a coma. When I woke up, I'd lost some memories."

"I'm sorry. What happened?"

"It was a car accident. I don't know what happened. I don't remember."

And then he suddenly realized he did remember.

"Teo, slow down. There's a train coming."

"I—I can't—I can't!"

An eerie feeling overcame Jason as he frowned and turned his head sharply, seeing how terror crossed Teo's face, his left leg moving up and down as if pressing on the brakes repeatedly.

"I can't," Teo repeated, panic evident in his words, "Someone played with the brakes, I can't stop!"

Jason's breathing hitched in his throat, panic rising to his head. "The train, Teo, the train!" he kept yelling, his heart beating faster. His eyes were stuck on the train tracks, the loud ding-ling of the train echoing through the entire area. The car kept driving in full speed, swerving over the road.

"The fucking train!" Jason screamed again, sweat breaking out everywhere on his body. This couldn't be happening, this couldn't be fucking happening. He was finally going home, everything was supposed to be fixed.

This couldn't be happening.

"I fucking know, Jason!" Teo shot back, and although he looked like he was keeping it together semi fine on the outside, Jason could see that Teo was freaking out from the inside.

If Teo was freaking out... something had to be really wrong.

"The train!" Jason couldn't get anything else out of his mouth, his eyes glossing with fear. Why, why, out of every day that this could've happened, why today?

Then, the yellow and blue of the train filled the tracks, rushing by. The train seemed endless and Jason kept praying for the train to pass so the car wouldn't hit it, but he knew it was in vain once the car was about to drive through the fence.

"Teo!" He cried, squeezing his eyes shut.

And with that, Jason felt how he got thrown into the window, pieces of glass piercing through his skin as rambunctious noises blasted through his ears.

"One day you'll get in a car accident, what am I supposed to do then?"

And then everything turned black.

"What? What is it?" Pia's voice cut through the memory. Jason's eyes widened in realization, a faint throbbing in his head being the only indication that he hadn't imagined this. In contrary to the usual reminders of memories, Jason didn't feel lightheaded and hadn't gotten a bothersome headache. In fact, none of that had happened at all. He hadn't even picked up on it until Pia asked him how the accident happened. It was like he'd known all along.

"I do know what happened." He quietly informed her, "I was in the car with... Teo?" why was he in the same car as Alexia's brother? Although it was true that they'd been close before they moved to LA, it hadn't crossed his mind that they may have gotten close again when they moved back. But if that was the case, why hadn't Teo visited him?

Shit. What if Teo hadn't made it? He was in the driver's seat, after all.

"Who's Teo?"

"Alexia's brother. We... we used to be close. I don't know why we were in the same car. We were going home?" Jason didn't get it. If they were going home, where had they been before? Again, why was he with Teo? Teo had said that someone had played with the brakes. Who'd done that? Was someone trying to get them into an accident?

Was it the person that was after Jason during that time?

"You look confused."

"I am confused." But the fear prickling in the roots of his belly was stronger than the confusion shadowing his thoughts.

xxx

a/n: Here's Pia!

(Of course I believe that everyone should imagine these characters the way they want to, feel free! This is just the way I imagine them to look like.)