Echoes of Wonderland

I don't wanna live forever

Chloe's POV

Three months later

Family Day in Auradon feels like a beacon of normalcy in the aftermath of the chaos that once engulfed our lives. The grounds of Auradon Prep are alive with laughter, the air sweet with the scent of festive treats, and the sky is a bright canvas of blue, unmarked by the shadows that once loomed over us.

I'm here with my family: Mom, Dad, and Chad. They're my anchors in this sea of joy and activity, their presence a comfort. We're mingling with friends, the atmosphere warm and inviting. Dizzy, Celia, and I are sharing a laugh over something trivial—probably a joke from Dizzy that I don't quite remember, but it's enough to make us all smile.

Despite the cheerful facade, my thoughts drift back to Red. It's impossible not to. Every so often, a fleeting memory of her surfaces, unbidden but persistent. The way she used to laugh, her eyes filled with a fierce determination that I once admired so much. I see traces of her in the corners of this celebration, in the faces of people who used to be part of our circle.

Mom and Dad—Cinderella and King Charming—look happier than they have in a long time, their smiles genuine as they interact with friends and enjoy the festivities. It's a stark contrast to the sorrow that's become a part of my daily life. James Hook and Bridget, Red's parents, stand at the edge of the gathering, their expressions a blend of wistful sadness and forced cheerfulness. I know how much Red's disappearance has hurt them. They've become like family to me, and their pain is something I can't ignore.

Seeing them only reminds me of the absence that looms large. It's a silent reminder of how much we've all lost. Even though I never revealed the true nature of Red's departure, I understand why they keep their distance now. My presence—my happiness—serves as a stark contrast to their grief, a painful echo of what once was.

As I glance over at them, my heart aches. Their grief is palpable, a silent testament to the love they have for their daughter. The weight of their loss is etched into their expressions, and every laugh, every cheer, feels like a cruel reminder of what's missing.

Despite the joy around me, the hole Red left in my heart remains. I try to focus on the present, to savor the moments with my family and friends. But the ghost of what could have been lingers, an ever-present reminder of a love lost and a promise that was never fulfilled.

In this crowded field of celebration, I'm surrounded by people who care for me. And yet, the absence of Red—her love, her presence—is a void that nothing can truly fill. I can't help but wonder where she is, what she's doing, and if she ever thinks of me. The memory of her is a bittersweet echo that follows me through the laughter and the joy of this day, a constant reminder of the love that once was and the pain that remains.

---

I try to push the thought. Dizzy, Celia, and I have been hanging out together. We're trying out different treats and laughing at each other's jokes. For a brief moment, the heaviness in my heart lightens. But my drifts back to Red's parents. I can't help but feel a pang of guilt and sadness every time I see them.

Dizzy notices my distant expression and turns to me with concern.

- Hey, what's up with you? - She asks, her brow furrowed.

Celia, sensing the shift in mood, adds softly.

- Thinking about Red again?

I'm jolted back to the present by their words. I had been lost in thought, my gaze drifting back to Red's parents. The sight of their grief is almost too much to bear.

- Yeah. - I admit, my voice thick with emotion. - It's just... it hurts to see her parents like this. I mean, they lost their daughter. It's like they've lost everything.