Lost In Neverland

Gwen California sunsets were supposed to be magical, the kind that painted the sky in pink and orange swirls, promising perfection. My followers thought so, at least. “#GoldenHour,” I captioned my latest post—a carefully angled selfie perched at the edge of my infinity pool, the Pacific Ocean a sprawling, endless backdrop. The comments flooded in almost instantly: “Gorgeous!” “Queen!” “Living the dream!” Except the dream wasn’t real. Inside the house, the party raged on. The music thumped so loudly it made the glass doors vibrate, the bass pounding in time with my pulse. Tonight wasn’t just any party—it was my party. A skincare brand was throwing the event to celebrate the launch of my collaboration with them. My name and face were plastered across every glossy ad, hailed as the ultimate “glow-up queen.” Everyone here was either a fan, a social climber, or someone hoping to siphon off a little of my spotlight. Everyone, that is, except Blake. I leaned back against the poolside lounger, the glass of vodka soda cool against my hand. My silky red dress shimmered in the fading light, clinging to me like armor. It was the kind of dress you wore when you wanted to scream to the world. I had it all together, but inside, I was crumbling. The sunset’s golden reflection rippled across the pool, a distorted version of reality. I stared at my phone, the latest message from Talia blinking on the screen. Talia: “Saw Blake w/ that brunette. You okay?” A lump rose in my throat as I stared at her words. My fingers hovered over the screen before I replied, “Totally fine. He’s harmless.” But even as I hit send, the lie tasted bitter. It wasn’t fine. None of it was. I downed the rest of my drink; the burn of the vodka did nothing to dull the ache in my chest. With a sigh, I stood and made my way toward the house, the glass doors sliding open to release a wave of sound and heat. The party was a whirlwind of flashing lights, clinking glasses, and designer-clad bodies. And then I saw him. Blake stood near the bar, his tall frame leaning casually against the counter. His dark hair was perfectly styled, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal his toned chest. He was laughing, his hand resting on the lower back of a girl I didn’t recognize. Her brunette waves cascaded over her shoulders, and her red lips parted in a flirtatious smile as she leaned into him. My chest tightened, anger bubbling beneath the surface. As I approached, my heels clicked sharply against the marble. “Blake,” I said, loud enough to cut through the din of the party. He froze, his hand still on her back. The girl stepped away, her wide eyes flicking between us. “Gwen, hey,” Blake said, his charming smile sliding into place. “You look amazing tonight.” I ignored the compliment, pulling my phone out of my clutch. “Funny because I just got this from Talia.” I tapped the screen and held it up to him—a series of photos Talia had sent, showing Blake and the same brunette from earlier this week. The photos weren’t just damning; they were humiliating. Blake’s hand was on her thigh in one, their lips inches apart in another. His smile faltered. “Gwen, it’s not what it looks like.” “Oh, really?” I raised an eyebrow, my voice icy. “Because it looks like you’ve been screwing around behind my back.” The people around us began to notice, their laughter dying down as whispers spread. Blake’s confident facade cracked under the weight of their stares. “Can we talk about this somewhere private?” he muttered, his tone low. I stepped closer, my voice sharp. “Why? So, you can gaslight me without an audience?” I shook my head, my heart pounding. “No, Blake. We’re done. I’m not going to keep pretending you’re someone you’re not.” The color drained from his face. “Gwen, come on. Don’t do this here. You’re overreacting.” I let out a bitter laugh, my voice rising. “Overreacting? You cheated, Blake. You humiliated me, and now you want me to be the reasonable one?” I dropped my voice to a deadly whisper. “We’re done. Stay out of my life.” Without waiting for his response, I turned and walked away, the crowd parting in my wake. My heart was pounding, my chest tight with a mix of anger and relief. Back outside, the cool night air hit me like a slap. I stumbled toward the edge of the pool, gripping the railing as I tried to catch my breath. The party, the betrayal, the lies—I felt like I was suffocating under the weight of it all. I didn’t realize I was too close to the edge until it was too late. The ground tilted, my foot slipping on the damp stone, and then I was falling. The icy shock of the water stole the air from my lungs as I plunged under. For a moment, there was only silence, the world above muffled and distant. I kicked hard, breaking the surface with a gasp. But when I looked around, everything was gone. The house, the cliffs, the lights—all of it. I spun in the water, panic clawing at my chest. Above me, the sky was an endless stretch of black velvet dotted with stars so bright they seemed unreal. The ocean stretched endlessly around me, warm and impossibly clear. And in the distance, an island loomed. Jagged cliffs rose sharply from the water, crowned with thick, dark forests. A chill ran down my spine despite the warmth of the sea. The faint sound of laughter reached my ears—high, wild, and wrong. I swam toward the shore, my limbs trembling with exhaustion and fear. When I finally dragged myself onto the glittering sand, I was met with an eerie silence. “Hello?” I called, my voice trembling. The laughter stopped. From the shadows, a figure emerged—a young man, his blond hair tousled, his piercing blue eyes sharp and unreadable. He wore a dark hooded jacket and black combat boots, his presence radiating danger and something unearthly. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he said, his voice low and steady. My breath caught in my throat. “Where is here?” “Neverland.” My knees buckled, and I sank onto the sand. The surreal, impossible truth washed over me like a wave. I wasn’t dreaming. And I wasn’t going home.