Faerie Dust.

In a city like New York, people keep to themselves. It is not because New York is the frigid bitch of the world. Simply put, New Yorkers do not have the time or patience for anything that does not concern them. It might be something in the water, for every New Yorker walks five paces quicker than the visitors. Following the age of sixteen, some sort of a caffeinated beverage and a bagel are essential to the existence of a New Yorker. New Yorkers are an anomaly, to say the least.

Aurora Philips was a New Yorker at heart. Although her father was filthy rich with a record company and they lived in numerous parts of the world, New York was home. The eighteen year-old Columbia student received a rush like no other when she walked out of her Park Avenue residence to be met by taxis and busy pedestrians. Aurora was a New Yorker but with even less of a soul than typically normal. She drank her coffee black and bitter, synonymous to her soul as the people at school said. She was a first-year student, studying psychology and European History with a minor in Music who had the aspirations to become a doctor one day. With all of her schoolwork, Aurora did not have the time or need or want to socialize and make friends. Freud and the Crusades were her friends. People were stupid and far too below her for her liking. Aurora was an utter bitch.

Aurora’s story started when her father decided to take in five British boys for the course of six months to assist them in the writing of their album. These boys, One Direction as the world knew them, were to reside at the Philips Park Avenue townhouse for the duration of their stay in New York. Aurora had to deal with humans. This is the story of what transpired between her and a certain Irish boy. Proceed with caution, her personality and tone tend to turn away many.