Everyone had forgotten Peter, and that means everyone on earth. His old friends? They looked at him like another stranger. His literal girlfriend? Would just walk right past him.

It was hard to get used to this, and there was times where Peter wanted the spell reversed, but he knew this was for the best. He’d tell himself that while he cried at night, hoping just someone would notice him, even if it was someone he deeply hated.

Today was another painfully slow day. Peter found himself wondering through the streets, lost deep in his own head that’d became his only company. Without looking up, he’d turned a sharp corner and bumped into someone, sending them both to the ground. He recognised them. It was Guest, one of MJ’s friends he’d gotten to know well throughout his and MJ’s relationship.

“Sorry, Peter,” they said, already moving to stand up.

“Wait- Peter?” Peter repeated, his brain short circuiting. Strange said no one would remember him, not even a damn dog. But Guest did. And how?

“You know who I am? Seriously?” He didn’t sound mad, only pure shock, maybe even relief that this all could go back to normal—he knew deep down it would never be normal again, but just let him have this.