Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Peter, His Lost Boys, Hook, Or Anything else. D:
Peter Pan's P.O.V.
The air is quite brisk in this cold November evening. Especially when I was too dazed to remember my leather jacket, but I didn't care. Brisk wind hits my skin like daggers. And I like it. It helps me tell the difference between real and make believe. What is there to believe anymore, huh?
The streetlights are on now. The puddles are just starting to clear away from last night's rain. I used to enjoy puddles when I was smaller. Younger. Not so jaded as I am now. I used to adore my reflection. I might as well say I was the very definition of Cocky. I was care-free. I wanted to never grow up. I almost convinced myself I wasn't was going to. Almost. That was before my messy, blonde, windswept hair turned brown, like smeared ashes. That was before my vibrant green eyes became dull, pale, and glassy. That was before Hook. Or at least that what everyone calls him.
I continue to walk down the cool, dead, streets of London. It's getting rather late I tell myself. But part of me just can't seem to make myself care. I was taking very long strides by then. My scuffed up ink black work boots making a very define click click every step. Sooner or later, I'm not sure which, I ended up in some dark alley in the God-Only-Knows-Where side of town in London. I walked all the way to the end, leaned against the brick wall, and slowly started to slide down.
The ground was cold, and wet. I could feel it seeping through my jeans. They were worn and torn anyway. Who gives a Hell?
I reached into my pocket and took out my cell. I scrolled down to recent calls and saw her name. The light from the phone was so bright in the dark that it was making me squint. No. I wasn't squinting because my eyes were rimming of tears. No. Of course not. But anyway. I say her name. Wendy. Shining brightly in my face. Which is pretty ironic considering how many times she tried. Tried to pull me out before I forget. But my memories fading. Fading fast. As I scroll down, I come across another name, Hook. I was gonna call Wendy, the girl that could save me, but the pleasure that Hook's "Fairy Dust" put upon me... It's just so.. So.. Lifting.
Now you see my problem. It's not even a problem anymore. It's become my life. My entire life revolves around this Neverland. Or so they call it. Captain Hook found me at the right time. The lowest point of my life. Apparently that's what he does. He takes children that are at their all time low, children that had so much potential but have just been through so rough times, and tempt them. Tempt them with stories of the great beyond. Stories that leave you wanting more. Then he gives you a taste. A small taste of what could happen. Of what you could feel. Of what you could be. Of what you could become. And you feel like you're on top of the world. Like you're on Fairy Dust flying high above everyone else. But how I met Hook? Oh no. Mine? Mine was a special case.
I had just arrived at London not so long before I saw him. I was walking around. You know, just to simply walk and enjoy everything . Maybe stir up a little trouble, make a little complications. Because, hey, that's what I do. I am Peter Pan. I have a rep to uphold. Well... Had a rep. I wasn't really paying attention to what I was doing and I accidentally ran into some punks. I mean, I'm a punk myself. No, not like hardcore punk. Not like I-To-Dye-My-Hair-Crazy-Colors-Then-Spike-It-And-Smoke-Joints-All-Day, but like a street punk. I grew up on the street. And don't believe what anyone else tells you, but I had the best time of my life growing up like that. I don't think I could have been raised any better. But anyway. I ran into them. And they were pissed.
They dragged my sorry ass down an alleyway, (I know. Me and Alleyways are quite friendly with each other by now),and started to beat the shit out of me. I know. Pathetic huh? I couldn't even fight back. I was so stunned. There was just so many things happening at once, and it was all like a haze of white hot pain. I was really starting to get out of it until I saw him. Like a fucking Angel appear out of nowhere and tell those punks to scram. They dropped me on the ground, broken and bleeding, and that when Hook, my savior, bent over opened my hand and pour powdered gold inside my palm. He told me to sniff it. Like snort? You know, like crack-addicts. But I thought "What the Hell, I'ma die here anyway. Why not". And I did.
I could feel it coursing through my veins like liquid fire. I felt so good. I was flying high in the air. Like nothing could touch me. It was perfect. I didn't remember anything when I came down. I didn't remember how I got all those cuts and bruises on me. Hook had to tell me. I woke up in his apartment you see. He basically nursed me back to health. And once I was healthy again. I was craving something. Fairy Dust. It was totally taking over my mind. It was all I could think about until I asked him if he could give me some of that stuff again. To take me off to the place he called Neverland. He just smirked at me when I asked him, gave me a band and snorted it with me. I felt invincible. It was so… Exhilarating.
He told me to follow him. And that's when I met the Mermaids. Or so he called them. They were enchanting. At least they were to me. We went to Under The Sea. A club that Hook's "Lost Boys" ran. Hook calls his followers Lost Boys because that's what they are. Lost. And the Mermaids.. Well, let's just say they showed me a whole new world. Well, I lost a lot of things that day.. If you catch my drift. But, GOD, was it worth it.
So, that's how I met Hook. And it was all fun and games at first. I met the perfect girl. Wendy. Free-spirited, kind, brave, cocky, witty, charismatic. Everything I could have possibly asked for. Then my Neverland turned dark. My world crumbled around me. And it's still falling.
