[Peter wants to believe that it can change. He wants to be able to write off all the shite that James told him as being fiction but he can't. Maybe the reason he can't is what troubles him even more.]

Can I tell you a secret?

[Peter shifts closer to Pan, suddenly feeling as though he can trust this boy with every dark and rotten thing he's ever hidden deep down. That Pan is more than just his friend, he's the one who could make meaning out of Peter's sad little pathetic life.]

I'm not sad because it's a bad story. I'm sad because it's fucking true and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I might not know why but it's going to happen. Because whatever monster pops to the surface in two years time has been there for a very long time.