Should I add Jefferson to this book? And how do you like the new cover?

You smoothed out your dress as the doorbell rang. With a sigh, you opened the door to see Mary-Margaret looking perfect, as usual, and Ruby looking perfect, as usual.

"You ready?" Ruby asked.

"I guess." You grumbled. You really did not want to go to this dance-ball thing, but these two drug you along.

You sat in the backseat, your arms crossed as you stared out the window. The blue, form-fitting, knee length dress you had on did look great on you, but you never had a thing for dresses. You had to spend a year and a half to just get your hair to look halfway decent.

You had a feeling it wasn't going to be a good night.

Finally, the three of you arrived at the huge hall, where the dance was being held. You tried to walk confidently into the room, but there were so many beautiful people in there. You just felt like a troll.

You were shoved and tossed like a rag doll, and all you wanted was something to drink. You finally slipped your way to the table with... water. Great. No alcohol.

You sighed and took a cup, finding a quiet(er) corner and standing there while sipping the water.

You saw a disturbance in the crowd of people, than a man pop out much like you had.

You almost choked on your drink as he straightened up, smoothing his vest out. He had on a white dress shirt and a black vest with matching black slacks, a white scarf wrapped around his neck. His hair was a light brown and slightly messy, and he had the bluest eyes you had ever seen.

You watched him frown at the water, much like you had, and pick one up. He began to look around and his gaze landed on you, and you quickly looked away.

When you looked back up, he was still looking at you, but this time he smiled. You couldn't help but think his smile was adorable, so you smiled back. You kept your eye contact as he walked around the table and to you, leaning against the wall next to you.

"Not one for parties?" He asked.

"Not at all." You replied. He chuckled.

"I'm Jefferson."

"(Y/N). Do you live here?"

"On top of the hill."

"Oh. Cool." That's why you've never seen him around.

"You know," He said, "there's a diner a block away. Would you like to accompany me there?"

You thought for a second. He was a stranger, asking you to walk with him at night.

Just kidding, that wasn't what you were thinking about.

This is what you were thinking about:

Wow. He's hot. And cute. And I hate it here. Okay. Let's go, pretty boy.

Yep. All rationality was thrown out the window.

"Sure." You said. He smiled and offered his arm, which you gladly took.

He led you outside, into the cool breeze, and began heading down the road.

"So, Jefferson, tell me about yourself." You said, hoping to break the ice.

"Well," He said, "I live up on the hill, I have a daughter, and I don't work, but I'm sustained. What about you?"

"I live at the inn, for now, I work at Mr. Gold's, and I don't have any family. What's your wife's name?" You ask, slightly disappointed.

"Alice."

"Alice? I don't think I've ever met an Alice."

"She's... no longer with us."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay, it's been awhile." He smiled at you, and you didn't feel as guilty.

"Ah, we're here." He announced, opening the door for you. You walked in and sat in one of the booths, where Jefferson sat across from you. He looked around only to find the diner empty.

"Oh," He pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's sorry, I forgot the workers were at the Ball."

"And they didn't lock up the store?"

"There's not exactly anything to steal. They took it all with them."

"Right. I knew that."

He chuckled at you again. "But at least it's quiet." He said softly.

"Thank God its quiet."

You put your feet up on the booth and leaned against the wall, and Jefferson followed your actions.

"What's your story?" He asked quietly.

"My story?" You closed your eyes. "It's a bit depressing."

"So is mine."

You cracked one eye open to look at him, then sighed. "My story. Okay. I wasn't born here, but I came here once I turned 18. I had finally been able to leave that stupid orphanage. I've lived here ever since. There's been people I've known that died, or friends I had that tried to leave, but never came back. I don't think this town is what it seems. I think what goes on here is... magical in a way." You took a breath. "You probably think I'm mad."

"We're all mad." He said sinply, and you opened your eyes and sat up to face him. He did the same. "And I beleive you."

Your eyes widened slightly. No one had ever believed you. No one else had ever seen what you did.

"They don't remember any of it. Any of the magic. My daughter, my Grace, she doesn't even remember me."

You took his hand across the table, trying to comfort him. You had no idea what you didn't 'remember', but you had seen some crazy things in Storybrooke, and maybe he knew even more than you did.

"It's crazy." He said. "Seen as mad in one world, known as insane in another. But, here, I have to have knowledge to be insane. I have to be the one to remember. I know you don't remember. You're sane. Maybe. But I do. And that pain, the repition. That, (Y/N), that is what makes me mad."

"Please explain, Jefferson." You said.

"All of us are part of a story. We're all just characters that were cursed."

"Have you been talking to Henry?" You asked. You had heard Henry's tales many times.

"That's the thing, my dear, Henry is correct."

You slid your hand off of his and leaned back in your seat, eyebrows furrowed.

"That Queen. Regina. She cursed us, sending us here. She took away my daughter, made it so she didn't know who I was. She not my Grace. Now she's Paige. Paige. Paige that eats and laughs and sleeps in a house with another family."

"Jefferson-"

"And I tried. I tried to get her back. But that damn hat wouldn't work."

"Jefferson-"

"And do you know what happened? I lost my mind! The definition of insane is doing the same thing over and over again, hoping for different result. And that's what I did!"

"Jefferson!" You shout, causing him to stop. "Do you... do you think you're the Mad Hatter?"

"My name is Jefferson."

"But you think you're-"

"That's not my name."

"Then... who am I?"

Jefferson stared at you a long moment, his hands intertwined on the table. "You're... an old friend."

"Who. Am. I."

"I don't think you want to know."

"I wouldn't be asking of I didn't want to know." You retorted.

He sighed deeply, then looked into your eyes. "You're Graces mother."

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. "But, I'm not Alice."

"No, you're not. Grace was born before I met Alice."

"We were..."

"Together. Yes. But you were taken. Shipped off by your father to a wealthy landowner. You left Grace with me, hoping for a better life for her."

"You and I..."

"I loved you. I still love you. Looking at you now physically pains me. To know you don't remember."

You crossed your arms and bit your lip, thinking. If Henry was, in fact, correct, it could put sense into some things that happen in Storybrooke.

"Hat. What hat? Why doesn't it work?" You questioned.

"My hat. You could get to Wonderland, and many other lands. I did jobs for the Queen. It's because of that damn hat that I lost Alice and Grace."

"Why doesn't it work?" You repeat.

"Magic." He said. "No more magic."

"Problems can't all be fixed with magic."

"You see, that's the problem with people. They all expect some magical solution to their problems, but refuse to beleive in magic."

"Can I try?" Curiosity got the better of you.

"Try what?"

"Try to make the hat work."

Part two on its way!