A dream

Kris played by CC

He opened his eyes. Or closed them? It was hard to tell, and harder to remember. Wait- where was he? How did he get here? Kris glanced around his surroundings. He was sitting on a hill... a flowery hill. The sun was going down. Was... was this Earth? It definitely was. Amalgama didn't have sights this pretty. Though he usually isn't one to enjoy a landscape. He couldn't remember what happened before a few seconds ago. The last thing he can recall is feeling especially tired. He began to panic. Is he dead? What happened to him? Weirdly, his concerns changed. God, that sunset is really pretty. The sky was turning a pleasing color of reds and oranges. When was the last time he could see something like this? He couldn't remember that either. Or maybe that memory doesn't exist. He suddenly felt calmer. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all.
Rudely interrupting his peace of mind, a chill ran down his spine. His head whipped to the ground next to him. There's a hand. A hand holding his. He looked up so fast that's it was a wonder he didn't hurt his neck.
Kris' wide stare was met with hidden eyes and an uncharacteristic gentle smile. Wait, uncharacteristic? How does he know that? And how does he know this face? Why couldn't he remember this face? What is this person's name? And why did he feel so happy to see them? His face was visibly confused, and yet the familiar stranger kept smiling. Kris could feel his heart pounding. His head thumping. What does this mean? What's happening? He awoke with a jolt. For real this time. He was being shaken awake by someone. His eyes and body took time to adjust, to get the gears working again. The person shaking him... Someone... a friend. An old friend. Oh, right. He went out drinking with old friends last night. He must've blacked out. Not entirely unexpected. He was Kris Crester, after all. He had a pathetically awful reputation to hold. But none of that is important now. The words (scoldings?) being spoken to him were lost, being completely tuned out. He couldn't hear them. He was too busy trying to figure out why he felt... happy? Flustered? Clingy? The dream he just had quickly slipped away. But he felt it was important. What happened that's making him feel this way? He tried to grab onto a memory. He needs an answer, or at least some sort of clue.
Something orange.