"See you tomorrow," your manager calls as you slip into your black coat and sling your bag over your shoulder. "You've worked hard today."

“Thank you,” you shout back, flashing the humorous man an appreciative smile. “Don’t work too hard, sir.”

It’s the typical “Goodbye!” and “See you tomorrow!” from employees hunched over in their cubicles and workers casually leaning against the water dispenser and holding cups of steaming coffee in their hands. Walking through the monochromatic gray of your office building has become routine now, and although you’ve learned that even the people in their pristine and uniform are actually quite dappled with the bright and dark hues of this world, your thoughts still travel back to days of your youth.

When you step outside, a warm, gentle breeze greets you with ticklish touches and hushed whispers. With your feet firmly planted on the concrete, you let our eyelids fall closed so you can hear the the gentle murmurs of people and the rustle of the leaves and take in the fresh scent of autumn.

There’s a soft crunch under your feet, and your eyes scan over the string of stores and cafes that are planted along concrete sidewalks. It’s been a long week and you want to go home, but something peculiar catches your sight. Your vision settles upon the familiar bookstore, where swarms of girls gather. You've never seen this many people outside the bookstore, and your curiosity leads your feet to the glass doors.

You wedge between the swarms of girls to a lengthy table, stacked with books and holding a sign that reads "New Release."

You're not a nosy person, but you can't help but eavesdrop when two girls are squealing over a book.

"You have to read this," says a girl with long, chestnut locks. "The ending's quite sad, but the story is amazing!"

"Really?" murmurs the girl's friend.

The girl nods her head, hair ecstatically flopping up and down. "And the author's really good-looking," the girl squeals, flipping open the book and pointing to a picture in the back cover.

From the murmurs and squeals that you're able to salvage and gather from the people around you, it sounds as if the book is another one of those popular young adult stories about two star-crossed lovers who find themselves in the path of misfortune.

You aren't one to read archetypal love stories, but you only hear good things about it and you haven't read a nice book in a while.

You don't really expect much, but you're taken back by surprise when your fingers reach for one of the glossy hardcover books and your eyes scan over an all too familiar title.

"Peter and Wendy."

You draw in a sharp breath as you read the name written in glossy, golden letters across the bottom.

"Do Kyungsoo."

You can't say you haven't forgotten about your first love, your Peter, but you've learned to live without the pain of the past binding you to your memories and holding you from pursuing your dreams.

You're deluged by a flurry of emotions, brewing a hurricane in your heart, and a slideshow of memories flickers before your eyes. With trembling fingers, you pick up the book and trace the letters of his name, a smile tugging at your lips as the familiar feeling of your first love awakens a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. You open the back cover of the book, admiring the picture of Kyungsoo.

He's lost a bit of weight, which has defined his jaw and cheekbones, and he's grown his bangs out. Your eyes ghost over the plush lips that once kissed you so gently and the dreamy gaze that had once left you breathless. His smile is the same, and you're glad that even all these years, he's taken your advice and replaced those shabby, round-framed glasses with a chic look provided by contact lenses.

You flip the book over and read the overview of the story on the back, and just as you predicted- he's published the story about Peter and Wendy.

Your story.

Tears collect in your eyes and you chuckle, "So much for wanting to write sci-fi novels."

You remember those long hours of sitting across from him on a blanket of grass, listening intently to all the sci-fi novels he was going to write. It's quite ironic, how years later, he's managed to make his debut as an author with a not-so-common love story about two young lovers.

"The story's so beautiful," the girl with chestnut locks continues, "it makes you wonder who this Wendy girl is."

You are Wendy.

You are the one Kyungsoo has written this story about.

You want to linger in the warmth of the bookstore and in the comforts of your memory, but you jump into the line surrounding the cashier when you receive a text:

"Don't forget to pick up your daughter from preschool!"

~~

“Mommy!”

A wide smile stretches across your face as you see the figure of your little girl running to you, with pigtails in her hair and her rosy cheeks. She runs into your arms, and you press a kiss to her forehead.

“Did you have a good day at school, my little princess?” you ask her, brushing the tangle of hair out of her eyes.

She bobs her head up and down, and you can’t help but chuckle at the adorableness that is your own child.

“Let’s go home,” you say, taking her hand into your own.

Evening arrives in a blur, and you’re washing the dishes, letting the warm water run over your gloved hands and relax your muscles, when you hear a knocking at the door and the shrill noise of a key fiddling with the lock. The door swings open, and you hear the rapid footsteps of your little girl as she screams, “Daddy’s home!”

A low grunt is heard from your husband as your daughter throws her arms around his legs, causing him to nearly topple over. Loud, booming laughter escapes from his chest, and he stoops down to envelop your daughter in a hug.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't pick you up from school today, Princess," your husband murmurs. "Daddy was busy today."

"It's alright," your little girl assures.

You don't want to interrupt the moment, but reluctantly, you call out to your four-year-old. "I think it's time for you to go to bed.”

Your little girl pouts, but your husband plants a kiss on her cheek and whispers something in her ear that makes her nod her head and bound up the stairs. He flashes you a smile, before striding towards you and pressing a gentle kiss against your lips.

“Sorry I’m home late,” he breathes against your lips.

“Are you hungry?” you ask.

He shakes his head. His cinnamon eyes brush over your features, and he asks, “Is something wrong? You look down.”

“Just tired,” you say, forcing a smile. “Go take a shower,” you tell him, fixing the strand of hair that falls over his forehead. “I’ll go tuck her in.”

You watch as your husband plods up the stairs, your gaze travelling from his figure to your bag resting on the kitchen counter.

~~

“Mommy,” your daughter calls, sitting in bed.

You seat yourself on the bed and tuck the sheets over her fragile body.

“Mommy, can you tell me a story?” she asks.

“What kind of story?” you hum.

“The one you always tell, the one about Peter and Wendy,” your daughter says.

The smile on your face disappears, your gaze travels to the carpeted floors, and your fingers retreat.

“You never tell me how it ends.”

You hands reach out to pat your daughter’s cheeks, your thumbs brushing her rosy cheeks. “The ending isn’t quite a happy one,” you mumble.

She pouts.

“But it isn’t quite a sad one, either.”

A smile reappears on her face, and eager eyes gleam at you, while she pleads, “Tell me!”

“You see, Peter didn’t want to grow up, so he stayed in Neverland. But Wendy… Wendy missed her home so much that she returned. She grew up, and she even had a family of her own.”

The contours of your daughter’s face pull into a scowl. “I don’t want to hear that version of the story. I want to hear how your story ends. Your story is so much better!”

“My story,” you mutter. You draw in a deep breath, envisioning a sullen Kyungsoo on a midsummer day, as he says goodbye. “Well, you see, Wendy and Peter were madly in love, but fate was not on their side. Both of them… had to go their separate ways.”

“What do you mean?” your daughter asks.

“Wendy had to leave the town she learned to love to move into the city. Her family had to move into an apartment, and she could no longer see grass fields and clear, blue skies outside her window. Instead, she would look out the window at all the tall buildings at night, praying that Peter would find her. She prayed and prayed that Peter would fly through her window, hold her hand, and take her on another adventure, but unfortunately, it never happened.”

“What happened to Wendy?”

“Wendy grew up, of course. After leaving Neverland, she became a woman, and she fell in love with a handsome, kind man. They had a family together and one beautiful child.” You chuckle as you remember meeting your husband as the bumbling boy who was too embarrassed to talk to you in college.

“If Wendy fell in love with someone else, what about Peter?”

“Actually,” you sigh, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, “I haven’t been quite sure of Peter’s ending for a long time, but now… now, I know. Peter left Neverland as well, and he grew up to be quite a handsome man. He had a dream to be known by people, and that dream came true. Many people love Peter now, and he’s happy, very happy with the way things turned out.”

“Wendy and Peter didn’t end up together?”

You shake your head.

“But they’re happy?”

Tears threaten to spill, but you hold them back. “Very happy,” you say.

“That’s good,” your daughter says.

You inhale sharply. “Do you still have that necklace I gave you?”

Your daughter jumps out of bed, scurries to the jacket hanging on her door, and fishes through the pocket until a delicate silver chain with a charm rests in her hand. She hops back onto the bed, and shows it to you. You take the chain between your fingers and run them over the Peter Pan charm.

You put the necklace over your daughter’s head and hold her hand tightly.

“Wherever you go, remember that Peter Pan is always watching over you,” you tell her. “He’s going to follow you and make sure that you’re safe and happy.”

“Mommy, will I ever find my Peter?”

A moment of silence passes, and you respond. “Yes, you will.”

She smiles at you, and you don’t want your innocent girl to grow up and learn the pain of heartbreaks and farewells.

“Goodnight, my little princess,” you murmur, pressing a kiss against her cheek. “If you sleep now, Peter might even visit you while you’re asleep.”

You hear her gasp and chuckle at her silliness.

You flip the light switch off, before slowly creaking the door closed. You make your way to your own bedroom, where you can hear the sound of running water from the bathroom next door. You collapse onto your bed, reaching for the book you had bought on the night stand. You know you’re going to regret reading it, but you flip to the first page anyways.

A tear rolls down your cheek as you read the words printed on the page.

“For my beautiful Wendy, wherever you may be.

Neverland seems empty without the both of us.”

And you realize- this book isn’t for you, it’s about you. Kyungsoo has been searching, but he’s realized the truth, as well.

Neverland isn’t a place.

It’s a time.

A feeling.

Neverland remains within the memories, and the only way to visit is to simply remember. You put down the book because Kyungsoo is no longer looking for you. He’s saying thank you and farewell. Just as promised, he’s written a story about you, to remember and bottle the memories.

But some things are best left forgotten.

You set down the book and get off your bed. You plod to the window, where dim moonlight peeks between velvety curtains. You push the curtains aside and gaze at the starry night, wondering if Kyungsoo still remembers the conversations you’ve shared under the same stars, the same moon, and the same sky.

“Wherever you are, be happy, my Peter,” you murmur. “My one and only Peter.”

Forever your Peter Pan.