/

INTRODUCTION

Millions of girls float on their one quote
Living on their last hope, on their last hope
I lived my life inside a dream
Only waking when I sleep
I would sell my sorry soul
If I could have it all

/

Crumbled and torn, the letter was lying at her feet.

Jane's chin was raised high up: anyone else who would have seen her at this moment would have thought she was merely stargazing. They wouldn't have been entirely wrong; Jane truly was giving a great impression of looking at the night sky. But, in truth, she was gazing intently at the stars without ever really seeing them.

Instead of reflecting about the heavens above, her mind was filled with echoes of words violently printed onto white paper.

'… rejected.'

'After many deliberations, the Admission Committee has come to a decision...'

'… rejected.'

'… we regret to inform you that your results to our admission test have been insufficient...'

'… rejected.'

'... therefore, your application to our university has been...'

'... rejected.'

'… please accept, Ms. Foreville, our regards.'

Rejected.

Rejected.

A year ago, she had enlisted to pass an important admission test, which would then have allowed her to enter the university she had always dreamed of. On this exam relied every single hope she ever had for her undoubtedly bright future.

A year ago, it had seemed like nothing could come in between her and her dream college – not a couple of tests, certainly. She had thought that working hard would have been sufficient; she had even been absolutely positive about it. But in the end, what had been the point of working so hard? She had not been able to succeed. She had simply been rejected.

Coldly, she glanced at the floor, where the letter was still mocking her in its own insidious way. She did not kick it, nor did she trample it, as she had already done for almost all afternoon. It seemed exhaustion had finally overcome useless anger. Then, for a few moments more, she turned back her face – onto which remained some faint traces of shame and irritation – towards the starry sky.

But she had worked so hard, she thought helplessly. This thought didn't help her feel any better; in fact, she felt an accute pang of self-pity hitting her hard in the chest.

It wasn't fair; it wasn't. She almost sobbed – except she couldn't possibly be sobbing, for she was not a child anymore – she had decided she wasn't.

Finally, Jane inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm her erratic breathing. Solwly, she lifted her fingers to the handle of the door before her. It opened almost silently, and just as soon as it did she was outside.

When she opened her door that night, she had only sought relief in the cooling breeze of the night air. But she was far from imagining that what was about to come next would change her life forever.

/

CHAPTER 1

What would you say if you had to leave today?
Leave everything behind
Even though for once, you're shining

/

She breathed in, welcoming the chillness of the night surrounding her. It helped her come round a little, as if some of her senses had been previously dulled by the stillness of her room.

For a moment, she remained still, expecting that the chilly air of the night would entirely cleanse her mind of the harsh and blazing words engraved in it, which were constantly teasing her and reminding her of her failure.

Jane shook her head, telling herself that she ought to think about something else.

Visions of a much simpler time came back to her; a time when the fear of failure was something she didn't even know existed. She remembered playing with old-fashionned wooden toys that her grandmother had given her one day; she remembered the excitement of openening her gifts on Christmas' eve, sitting by an immense tree set in a brightly-lit living-room. She remembered, smiling as she did, tearing the wrapping paper off from a book: one that had changed her life ever since.

As soon as she had opened it, she had been carried away by the adventures of Peter Pan and Wendy. This was a memory she would never forget. When she had finished reading it, she read it for another two or three times, before solemnly pledging that she would never stop to believe in fairies. And, up until today, she had faithfully kept true to her promise. No matter the circumstances, she had kept this belief safe and sound within her. Ceaslessly, she sought comfort in imagining meeting Peter Pan, and flying off to Neverland with him. After a while, people started telling her that she was getting too old for this, but Jane found that keeping some magic within her didn't interfere in the least with her day-to-day life.

Her blurry vision – the wind, she thought – finally met a glimmering star in the night sky. Automatically, she knew which one it was. She had stared at it countless times before, hope filling her heart. Every time she did, she had said her magic words.

Five simple words which had always managed to keep the magic in her heart alive and well: 'I do believe in fairies'. She had done so just the day before; but now she felt that she wouldn't utter these words ever again. Suddenly, they felt ridiculously overused, like they would leave a taste of dry ashes in her mouth if she said them again. The magic was gone. Why didn't she realize sooner that it had gone?

She could pray and chant 'I do believe in fairies' as much as she wanted, she came to realize – right at this exact moment – that it had never saved her. Every night, ever since a night so long ago she couldn't remember it, she had dreamily gazed up at the sky; always on the lookout for that special second star to the right. Yesterday, she used to dream of flying ships and thrilling mermaids... But to believe in fairies didn't come easily when all your hopes had just come crashing loudly to ground.

She remained silent and lost in an endless spiral of thoughts for a while, although it seemed to her that her mind was blank. She simply felt the wind cool down her burning brow and create goosebumps on her arms. Then, words fell out from her lips – without her realizing it; without her meaning to.

'I do believe in fairies...'

When she heard the words, a low chuckle escaped her, causing her shoulders to shake. They kept on shaking miserably as her miserable laugh grew steadier, until they shook with the cries she couldn't ignore any longer. And suddenly she couldn't help but face the fact – she was afraid.

Panic came flooding into her bones in a blink of an eye, overwhelming and smothering her senses. She cried, her head seeming to implode, as she realized she had no idea what to do next. For so long, she had had her whole life planned ahead of her: and there it was, destroyed by black letters spread out mechanically onto a thin and cutting piece of paper. What came next? Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and the day after; her vision of the future was now blurred out into the great unknown.

She should get a grip on herself, she knew it; she ought to get ready and plan out her life – from scratch, this time. But she had no idea about where to go, or what to do. For the first time in her life, she felt completely and entirely lost.

She wanted to cry to her mom, to cry to her dad, to cry for god's sake. What was she going to do? Her mind was on fire and nothing could calm her down, nothing could convince her that she was panicking for useless reasons.

Then she heard footsteps behind her.

'Jane, what are you doing, all alone outside?' said a high-pitched voice.

Her little cousin Clara had turned up on the doorstep, and was currently considering Jane with unconcealed suspicion in her eyes. Jane had almost forgotten that the thirteen year-old had accompanied her aunt and uncle when they had been invited to spend the week at her parent's house. If Jane had gotten along with Clara when she had been a toddler, she was now much older and had severed some ties with Jane, judging her unworthy of her attention according to her popular teenager standards.

Nevertheless, the cold remark had the credit to immediately stop Jane from falling into further distraught. She did not reply but turned around to face her; although her legs still shaky, she kept her head up and dignified.

'Are you trying to get in touch with fairies again? Really, aren't you supposed to be a little too grown up for these things?' continued her cousin. Stretching up to make the most of her small height, she had tried to affect a supreme look of obvious condescension.

In some ways, her cousin was right: hadn't she, just a few moments ago, told herself that she wasn't a child anymore? But the last thing she wanted at the moment was to give any credit whatsoever to a thirteen year-old girl, only five years younger than she. At this moment, Jane simply felt supremely angered by the way her cousin tried to act like she knew better - and all of it for the sake of a precious teenage attitude.

Yet, all of these excuses simply added up to one thing that she had tried to conceal: the fact that, try as she might – she wasn't ready to say she didn't believe in fairies yet.

'Go to bed, Clara.' Still, her cousin magnificently ignored her.

'Oh, are you turning to your 'Peter Pan' because you can't go to your silly school now?' Clara blinked for a moment – why would anyone be so desperate about not going to school? She continued. 'Well, you know what? Here's some news for you: Peter Pan and fairies? They don't even exi–'

'Clara, just shut up! You'll... you'll just understand when you get older,' concluded Jane lamely, ashamed to have had resorted to such a commonplace explanation.

As Clara didn't reply, Jane closed her eyes and sighed, enjoying the short moment of peace which ensued after the quick but heated argument which took place. She breathed in and out for a couple of seconds, trying to calm herself. Once her heartbeats had come to a reasonable rhythm, she opened her eyes again – and what she saw before them first seemed to be but a faint mirage.

She saw a strange light, hovering before her eyes, as it often does when one is tired. A strange light, which seemed to be tainted blue for a fleeting moment, yet turned pink or green the next. She expected it to disappear as she blinked a few times... Except it didn't. Instead, it grew brighter and brighter with each blink, almost as if it were getting closer. Almost as if it were...

Jane gasped, enraptured by the idea of what it could be.

Clara had watched the light getting closer as well, and although she felt slighlty disturbed by the sight, she choose not to show any sign of it. Instead, when she saw the look on Jane's face, she couldn't help but throw one last, biting remark at her.

'What are you expecting, Jane? It's just a stupid firefly, obviously, because fairies – and all those other things you keep on believing in – they don't exist.'

The words rang into the silence for half a heartbeat, as if time stood still against their echo. By the time they had fully resonated into Jane's ears, it was too late. Jane hadn't been able to stop them before they came out of her cousin's mouth: she had been too mesmerized to listen to what Clara was saying, and was now already regretting it.

For a rapid instant, she turned around to look at her cousin, half-furious and half-terrified, as if daring her to repeat what she had said. Noticing the furious glare, Clara immediately stood still and silent, a strange feeling of shame growing in her chest.

When Jane turned back in order to the look for the flickering light, she felt her heart sink low into her stomach. The enchanting glow had fallen straight to the ground.

If Jane opened her mouth to let out a gasp, no sound came out from her lips. She was left breathless with shock. For two seconds, the two cousins did nothing but stare silently into the blackness of the night. Then, suddenly, Jane burst out.

'Clara, what have you done?!' Never had she sounded so desperate before.

'Oh, c-come on', stuttered Clara defensively, 'why are you so upset? It was just a joke! I didn't mean it!' But something in Clara's eyes revealed the existence of a strange mix of emotions which she didn't want to feel. In her eyes appeared the signs of what could be read as a little bit of panic; a little bit of guilt. She had seen the light fall as soon as she had said the words – as soon as she said that fairies didn't exist –, and didn't want to face what it could possibly mean. Recovering herself as quickly as she could, she picked back up the bored and patronizing tone behind which she hid most of the time.

'You know what, Jane, you're acting real weird, and I'm going back to bed. I'm not waisting any more of my time with an eighteen year-old who still believes in fairy tales. You know what – you really do need to grow up!' And as soon as she had said these words, Clara made a dramatic exit, flipping her hair over her shoulder with importance. Three large steps later, she was gone – not to be seen by Jane again.

But it was almost as if Jane hadn't heard any her cousin's bitter words. As soon as Clara had disappeared, Jane had ran up to find the spot where the light had fallen. A few steps away, she found it, glowing faintly and half-concealed by the grass blades. To Jane's horror, it seemed it was dangerously loosing its initial glimmer each time it glistened. Slowly, she got closer; each step she took seemed to turn her legs to stone, while a dreadful feeling rised loudly within her.

After a few more steps which might have taken her an eternity to perform, she reached it – the source of the faint light, which lay forlorn at the middle of the grass. It could have been nothing – it should have been nothing. But it wasn't.

Crouching next to it, Jane glanced into the light and discovered a small and inert form at its core. It emitted a few more dim lights each time it breathed, – but she feared that soon the lights would be no more.

This small thing; by far the most delicate and precious thing she had ever seen in her whole life – was exactly what she had both hoped and dreaded it was; a fairy. Her heart leaped in her chest; her blood ran through her entire body much faster than it usually would; the world around her seemed to be spinning madly, but she didn't want it to stop. I knew it, rang the words in her mind. I knew they were real!

Looking at the fairy, every single thing in the world suddenly made sense. At this moment, she wondered why she ever had any doubt; right now, nothing seemed more real than what she was seeing, here, in her very garden. She hadn't spent her life believing in vain. Just when the last lights of belief had flickered and threatened to disappear inside her, the sight of that fairy had set ablaze her heart, with a fire so strong it would almost burn her whole.

Here was a fairy – but here it was, laying motionless before her.

Carefully, Jane took it between her hands; it was barely the size of her palms and no more heavier than a coin. She considered it with attention, hoping it would stir again under her gaze – but the tiny creature felt dull and stiff against her palms. Its shinning silver hair was sprayed out around her head like a glistening halo – it was the only glimmer which remained about the fairy. Two fragile dragonfly wings countoured her slight frame. Only moments ago, those wings had fluttered vividly – and, with sorrowful realization, Jane comprehended that those slender wings would never stir again.

It was overwhelming – too awful to bear. Passing from a joy which could have illuminated a thousand other souls to a state of extreme bleakness, Jane fell to her knees. Slowly, her vision got out of focus – all the tears that were inexorably filling her eyes restlessly blurred the sight before her.

She remained on the ground as one thought came to her over and over again, like an endless reproach. She should have been able to prevent it – the death of that fairy; the only creature that had given her hope for the short amount of time she had seen it. She had been waiting for a sign for so long; waiting for something to prove she wasn't wrong to hold on to her beliefs. Magic, fairies and Peter Pan...

It was true; all of it. And right at the moment when her life had looked so dim and hopeless, a light had appeared – it carried the hope for something better. But this light was now gone forever. For the second time in a single evening, another dream had glistened before her – right before it went to dust. Jane didn't even have the strength to loathe Clara for it – it didn't matter who she blamed; it was too late.

/

She didn't know how long she stayed here, crying for the fate of that little fairy with silver hair. She didn't pay any attention when a strange shadow came drifting from the sky – her view was clouded by tears. However, she heard a sort of whiff, one that wasn't caused by the wind running through the summer tree leaves.

But it took the landing of a little boy to make her lift her head up from her open hands. It didn't feel like a big deal at first – she had gone through so many emotions in one evening that she had already accepted the next thing to come as almost natural. So when she realized that a little boy with baby teeth had flown into her garden, she comprehended – with a calmness that almost felt unatural – that she was facing no other than Peter Pan.

Maybe it was due the cool stillness of the night: but to Jane, this moment felt utterly normal and ordinary; as if she had been expecting him all along like an old friend due for dinner.

She met the stare of the little boy. He was wearing a sneer on his face; from what Jane could tell, there was a great deal suspicion in his eyes. No wonder, thought Jane with the same coolness as before. He must think I'm a grown-up.

Then, guided by the previous direction of Jane's gaze, the little boy looked down to discover the lifeless body of the fairy, half-concealed in her hands. Jane's lips parted slightly; she was about to talk to the character who had made her keep the magic alive in her heart for so long...

But without a warning, Peter opened his mouth, his face distorted by unimaginable grief. The sorrowful wail that came from him froze Jane's blood; it felt helpless, horrified, desperate... It was made of pure and raw feeling, and it rang as clear as the cries of a newborn.

Jane could only watch, motionless, slowly blinking her own tears away. Surely, it was all a dream now. But as suddenly as he had cried, the boy stopped, and looked straight at her with eyes that could have made grown men draw back in fear.

'This! This – it's your fault! She died because of you!'

This wasn't what was supposed to happen, thought Jane. She finally met Peter Pan – he was there, real, in front of her. And instead of being able to express her gratitude for all those years of dreaming he had rendered possible – he had cut her short, dry and coarse. Instead of the magic she expected from him, the harshness and pure hatred of this false judgement made Jane snap back to her senses. Something in it immediately reminded her of Clara's cruel attitude; and, considering all that had happened until now, she wasn't sure she could stand it. She snapped back vividly:

'No! It's not true! You're mistaken –' but she paused for a second, as a sudden rush of sadness flooded in unexpectedly and overcame some of her previous anger. She carried out, on a softer and more pleading tone: '– I swear, I promise I didn't do anything!' But Peter merely replied as if he couldn't be reached by her call for understanding.

'You lie!' He roared back, peering at her from head to toe with disgust. 'You're just an adult – a liar!'

Jane now drew back. She didn't know what shocked her more: to be loathed by the magic flying boy she had been dreaming of for so long, or to be called an adult – while, in truth, she didn't feel like one yet.

'But – listen! Sure, I might be a little grown up, but it doesn't stop me from believing in fairies!' She carried on, not yet ready to be trampled on for something she didn't commit – something she never wished to see happening again. 'It was actually my little cousin who said... Who said...' She stopped here, unable to repeat the words – those words that had undoubetly killed the fairy, by lack of belief in them – but Peter stopped scowling at her as understanding started to dawn on his face.

He stared at her for a long time, before suddenly demanding in an impetuous voice that she explained herself. By now, Jane was positively puzzled, as she wasn't used to his sudden mood swings. Nevertheless, she replied, trying to describe what had happened as clearly as she could – although she was still violently shaken the numerous events of the evening.

'My cousin – she did it. She was teasing me because, ever since I was little, I always said I believed in fairies – up to today. Clara and I – we used to be close and she played along with me, but when she grew up, it seems she grew out of it as well. So this evening, when we saw the fairy, she just said those awful words –' Jane looked down at the fairy, then back at Peter. 'That caused the fairy to fall... I am so sorry for what happened. It just happened so fast, I couldn't...'

Jane looked down again, trying to hide the tears flowing in her eyes once more. One of them dropped and landed in an eerie and soft way onto the fairie's wing. The moonlight fell upon it – through the teardrop, the rainbow reflections of her crystalline wing seemed enhanced.

Maybe it was because of her genuine tears; but Peter now looked convinced about her story. Or maybe it was due another mood swing – nevertheless, he now bore a much more mollified temper. He flew up a little in the air with ease. If she hadn't yet been able to grasp the full extent of the magic before her eyes, Jane was now awestruck. At this moment, she was once again deeply shaken by the fact that this was true – the fairies, Peter Pan; they were all true. What more was there?

'The fairy and I,' he started solemnly, too solemnly for a little boy who wasn't playing pretense, 'we were called here by a really strong emotion – we felt it in the air tonight.' Jane listened, her mouth agape. 'She came down here to see what it was – and now I'm here, I'm really disappointed to see that it came from a grown-up.'

Peter paused, a hint of a scowl creeping back onto his features as he contemplated Jane – obviously a grown-up to him – while she stood, taken aback by what she had heard. So this was what helped Peter choose the Lost Boys and Girls? Strong emotions, carried away in the night air? Before she could process this new information, Peter was preparing to fly back off into the sky.

'Well,' he said in a sudden and unconcerned voice, 'goodbye now.'

This cold farewell – so cold, so different from all that she had ever imagined! – made Jane snap back. Peter seemed just about to lift off, and Jane felt as she had been struck by lightning. No, this couldn't be the end! Not so fast, not when she was on the verge of something so meaningful and so new; on the verge something that could change her life – when all had seemed so bleak but an hour ago. Something screamed inside her: she had to stop him no matter what.

'No, wait! Don't go, Peter, please – I thought – well, maybe I could come with you.' She had said the last part of her sentence as fast as she could, but still it sounded extremely ridiculous – even to her – when it came out. To her credit, it did manage to stop Peter mid-course; however, his reaction came exactly as she had expected it would. Peter turned around and let out a laugh, full of glee and mockery. For a long while, Jane remained there, allowing him to have his fits of laughter. She would stand anything – as long as he stayed.

When finally, Peter stopped, still gasping for air, he let out a breathless question.

'And w-why would I let you do that? You're still a grown-up, lady!' However, Jane was prepared. She always had been ready for Peter to take her away to Neverland – to fly amongst the stars, to meet mermaids and fairies... And it didn't matter if he had arrived much later than expected. She breathed in. Then, her voice low and steady, Jane replied truthfully:

'I have nowhere else to go.' She paused, inspecting the reactions on Peter's face, before carrying on. 'Until today, I had hopes, and dreams – and right now, they all failed me. But I saw that fairy, and I saw you; and I know that all the dreams I built before were meaningless. Because my truest and dearest dream – since, well, ever – is to go to Neverland. Right, I admit that I may not seem like it, but trust me – I have what it takes; I have more dreams and magic in my heart than most of the children you will meet here.'

She hesitated, before adding something that she was sure would help Peter make his decision: 'I could also be your mother - to you and to the Lost Boys. What do you say?'

Peter stood still, now silent and thoughtful. Interpreting this silence as a favorable sign, Jane softly added, in a coaxing tone: 'It doesn't take much – just fairy dust.'

But if her discourse had convinced him, the little boy was still hestitating. Finally, after a while, he asked:

'Are you sure? I mean, you're still a grown-up. You could be our mother, I guess... But if you go, you'll never be able to leave – I mean, you would tell everyone about Neverland!' He paused for a while, as if weighing the full extent of his authority, before continuing; 'So, yeah... I think that if I allow you to go now, you'll have to stay on Neverland forever.'

Jane unvoluntarily stepped back, taking in the shock of this statement. Forever... It might sound dreadful, and it was undoubtedly definitive. But, on the other hand, could she really pass such an opportunity? It was her sole chance to access Neverland – the only thing that she had always dreamed of. If she let go of this chance now, she would regret it forever; there wasn't a single doubt about that. Silently, she revived the painful moments she had lived earlier, reading about her failure printed in a harsh letter.

If this was what the future had in store for her, she wanted none of it. Quickly, she came to a decision.

After a while, she replied to Peter, her voice soft and decided. 'Why, it's not long at all.' A little smile was creeping its way to the corner of her mouth.

The answer seemed to please Peter. The smile he gave her then was shining – it was a smile filled with small milky teeth, that looked ready to bite the whole world if they could. His answer matched his smile, illuminating Jane's heart.

'Alright, then, why not? It could be fun!' Almost humming with excitement, he executed a wide and skillfull looping in the air. 'So, what are we waiting for? Let's go! I swear that I, the great Peter Pan, will lead you to Neverland!'

Jane had been ready for this signal for a long time. She smiled blissfully, almost not believing her luck – almost. She watched as he rummaged for a little while in his pocket, before finding what he had been looking for. With some over-dramatic theatricality, he pulled out a handful of shimmering dust and presented it to her.

'Fairy dust', he explained proudly – even though he didn't have to. She glanced, mesmerized, at the shinning dust. It was looking exactly like what Jane had imagined it would look like.

Peter had flown back up and started hovering over Jane for a few moments before opening his palm. The dust drifted in the air a few seconds before it fell ceremouniously onto Jane's head and shoulders. Feeling her heart beating fast and her breathing getting heavier, Jane closed her eyes. She didn't have to summon any happy toughts: for, happy, she already was – probably happier than she would be again, she thought. When she opened her eyes, she was floating. She had to pause for a while to realise this was real – she was floating – flying in the air!

The sensation couldn't compare to anything else in the world. She felt the wind guide her every movements; a few goosebumps appeared on her skin, but she didn't seem to be affected by any coldness around her. A sentiment of absolute freedom filled her; nothing on earth could matter now. She took the moment in, until her heart burst with so much joy that she felt herself soar up, up, up; the stars were getting closer and seemed much more visible now, against the dark of the night sky.

She felt like she could fly up into space and grasp those stars into her own hand. But she had to concentrate – after all, she didn't know the way to Neverland, did she? So she inhaled softly and managed to zoom down back to Peter.

Peter, who was making perilous loopings in the air, was laughing from the top of his lungs – and Jane realized that she had been laughing the whole time as well. He flew up to her and slowed down, before laying out a hand before him.

'Ready?'

Jane looked behind her – one very last time. She considered her house, her garden; she considered the torn letter, crumbled and laying down onto the floor.

She turned around to face Peter. Looking straight at him, she knew the answer he expected.

'More than ever.'

And together, they lifted off to the second star to the right.