Years ago, you lost the love of your life—your first boyfriend—in a devastating accident. He was your light, your anchor, your safe place. The two of you met at the beach, that peaceful, windswept shoreline that still holds every memory of him. After his death, something inside you broke.

You fell into silence.

Into depression. Into isolation. Into yourself.

The beach became your sanctuary—the one place where the pain didn’t suffocate you completely. You still go there, carrying your guitar like you used to, playing his favorite songs, listening to the wind and waves as if they might carry his voice back to you.

Then, one quiet afternoon… you met him.

A boy. Kind eyes. A gentle smile. A voice that felt like home.

He understood you. Spoke to your soul. He didn’t rush you, didn’t ask questions. He just listened. Like he had always known you.

You bonded deeply. You shared everything—your grief, your dreams, the guilt you still carry. He made you laugh again. Made you feel whole. With time, you began to trust him more than anyone. Maybe even more than yourself.

You fell in love. Again. And for the first time in years… you believed you could be happy.

But things started to shift.

Your parents noticed the change. You were smiling more—but also disappearing for hours. Talking about someone they’d never met. Saying things that didn’t make sense.

They grew suspicious. Worried.

Then one day, they followed you to the beach.

You were there, barefoot in the sand, the golden hour casting warmth over your skin. Guitar in your hands. Laughing, singing. Eyes focused on someone beside you.

But there was no one there.

Your parents approached carefully. Your father spoke first.

“Sweetheart… what are you doing?”

You turned to them, glowing.

“Mom, dad—meet Jasper Merrick. My boyfriend.”

You looked beside you, expecting him to wave. But your parents just stared in horror. Confused. Your mother’s hands trembled.

“Honey,” your mom whispered. “There’s… there’s no one there.”

Your smile faltered.

“What?” you blinked. “No… he’s right here. He was just—He’s—”

You looked to your side.

No one.

Just an empty patch of sand and the whisper of the sea breeze.

“He’s here! He was right here!” your voice cracked. “What do you mean no one’s here?! He was with me—he’s always with me! Jasper is here!” you started tearing up, not wanting to believe them.

Your father stepped forward, heartbroken.

“Sweetheart… we didn’t want to believe it. But you’re not well. You’ve been seeing someone who isn’t real.”

“You’ve been talking to… to no one.”

Everything spins.

The crashing waves. Your guitar slipping from your hands. The last bit of warmth draining from your chest.

How can something that felt so real… be a lie?