So...back to Wendy! The beginning story is turning out to be a little longer than I thought, but I think it's all good:D I probably will update more consistently and try to keep things going faster. Thanks for reading! I hope you guys liked it...? And please R&R! :)

Chapter 4

Wendy started her Sunday morning with a recital from a local opera singer. She could not quite understand why everybody seemed to enjoy such high pitched screaming, and doubted if she'd ever grow to get used to it at all. In the afternoon, there was a birthday party for the youngest son of the Whittingtons, which ended in another invitation to an upcoming private ball hosted by the wealthy Charles Benmore.

Aunt Millicent was very delighted that day as she was making acquaintances with influential people in London. Not only was the Benmore family wealthy, but they also owned most of the textile factories in the country. It was rumored that the only family that could compete with the Benmores in influence is the Pallisers. Edwin Palliser was one of few men who managed to inherit a large sum of money from his uncle since he had no children. The uncle also happened to be a baron and owned a large plot of land, which Edwin used to substantially fund railway constructions.

When the sun had almost set, Wendy was ushered into a coach by her aunt. Her parents were already inside, and she had to sit next to the lady who had been commenting on her dress and hair for the past two hours.

The theatre was bustling with colors when Wendy and her family arrived. Gentlemen and their ladies in elegant finery made their way into the grand building. Seeing this, George Darling swallowed nervously and nodded to himself several times while his wife Mary smiled reassuringly beside him.

As they made their way into the theatre, Wendy thought she saw a glimpse of familiar wild, blond hair out of the corner of her eye. But when she turned to have a better look, it was a middle-aged gentleman with his blonde wife.

The play started in less than half an hour. By then George had managed to greet several managers from the bank where he works, though nothing much had actually transpired between them other than some awkward pleasantries and short conversations.

The Darlings were seated many rows further from the middle of the room. Wendy could barely see the faces of the actors who donned extravagant costumes and became a little irritated with her tendency to squint. So instead, she looked around the room, looking up at the elaborately painted ceiling and making sure that her disinterest in the play was not apparent.

I would need to have my own set of binoculars the next time we attend a play, she thought.

Then her eyes wandered to the people in front of her and settled on the man several rows in front, standing up and leaving the room. He had the most tousled hair she had ever seen on a gentleman, and when he turned sideways, Wendy realized that he looked very young indeed. In fact, she could have sworn that she had seen him before somewhere. Just then, the play reached the point where its main protagonists began sword fighting and Wendy became distracted.

The count should have had fairer hair…and that traitor of a businessman could have used more interesting props instead of a wooden leg. Perhaps a wooden arm? Or better yet, a hook for a hand!

Wendy grinned to herself, imagining the scene she played out in her mind. It was then that she suddenly remembered that the man she saw leaving the room was perhaps someone she had seen in her dreams.

After her sixteenth birthday, Wendy had become even more immersed in the social activities her aunt orchestrated. She even had to attend classes on embroidery and horseback riding, not to mention ballroom dancing.

Why couldn't I have fencing classes? Or maybe tennis? Was her question to her parents when she was forced to attend those lessons, and Mr. Darling said, "Every proper girl in London has to learn these skills, Wendy. It might sound unpleasant at first, but I am sure that you will learn to at least enjoy one of the classes."

"Your father is right Wendy, you are finally turning into a woman after all." Mrs. Darling had said with a proud smile.

The young girl had since been so busy attending school, classes, and social gatherings that she began to forget more of her memories in Neverland. But now, it seemed that everything was starting to come back to her.

There were pirates, the Lost boys, her brothers… and a little fairy. There were also mermaids and Indians…and of course, the most important part of her adventure there started with the boy who taught her how to fly. She formed a startling realization that those memories that she thought were dreams, were in fact, real events.

Her eyes darted to the spot where she had seen the familiar young man, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Could it be?

Just in time, the play reached a brief intermission and the curtains were lowered. People here preferred to stay seated as it was deemed proper, but Wendy saw this as a chance to leave.

"Wendy, dear, where on earth are you going?"

"I just need to get some fresh air, aunt Millicent. I don't feel very well" She lied.

"Well alright then, I suppose it is fine, though I prefer that nobody leaves at all. This is just a very brief intermission after all, and not a break."

"Yes, aunt Millicent. I shall be back here before the next scene." Wendy promised to her rather reluctant aunt.

"Do you need me to accompany you, sweetheart?" Her mother offered.

"No, thank you, mother. I will be fine by myself." She smiled gently at her parents, trying to look weary and slightly ill.

As her legs took her out of the crowded room, she realized she was walking increasingly faster. Her heart pounded in anticipation and hope. She turned corners and even wandered outside, and when she finally saw the blond haired figure heading back towards the play, she nearly ran. The man slowly and silently opened the door to avoid being spotted, no doubt, by the audience inside but just as he had it slightly ajar, Wendy cried out, "Wait!"

The young man immediately whipped around and almost slammed the door shut as the audience inside the room fixed their eyes upon him.

"I beg your pardon?" He blurted out. "Were you addressing me?"

Wendy had already halted a few feet in front of him with her hands over her mouth, shocked by the way she had yelled into the room.

"I…I am very sorry." She nervously cleared her throat and looked up at the man. "I thought you were…" Her voice trailed off as she saw the face of the person now making his way slowly to her. Then, everything came back to her. The little details of her adventures in Neverland, the faces of everyone there, her promise with a certain boy… She remembered it all in one quick, overwhelming moment.

"Excuse me, miss but you look very pale." Came the familiar but strangely different voice.

Wendy realized she was staring, and looked away, flustered.

The playfulness in his eyes, the slant of his eyebrows…The way he speaks, and the curve of his lips. Indeed, he was taller–as tall as most grown men now–and had a more pronounced jawline. Yet, there was no mistake.

He was Peter Pan.

To be continued...