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My RP Discord Server: / discord My Friend's RP Discord Server: / discord Dark Matter Merch: https://dark-matter-shop.fourthwall.com There is a place where time folds in on itself like creased paper, smoothed over again and again until the lines blur and the truth fades. In that place, the sky is always summer blue, the smiles are always wide, and the stories always start the same—but something in the air feels... hollow. Beneath the warmth, there is the faint hum of repetition, and the scent of something once sweet that’s gone a little sour. She lives in the dream, or perhaps the dream lives in her—a curated paradise stitched together with scraps of memory, glitter, and denial. Every laugh is slightly off-key, every hug a performance for ghosts who don’t know they’re haunting the scene. The cracks in the perfect world are painted over with brighter colors, louder giggles, and hollow reassurances. And still, beneath it all, something learns. Something waits. Every time the curtain rises, the actors return to their places, their lines slightly changed. Someone watches. Someone weeps. Someone forgets they were ever real to begin with. The loop tightens like a ribbon pulled too tight—beautiful, bright, and cutting deep. The illusion holds, but only barely. And in the center of it all is the belief that joy, no matter how manufactured, is better than goodbye. This is not a tragedy of monsters. This is the slow unraveling of a wish that would rather rot than wilt. It is the cost of pretending that endings can be edited out, that consequence can be paused, and that love can be preserved by locking it in amber. But nothing golden lasts—not even eternal summer.