What happens in Ireland, stays in Ireland

prologue

Hi everyone!! I got this fic idea back in January and posted this as chapter one and two. i took those down and made it one prologue to see if anyone is actually interested in reading this. its a niall fic and he will be introduced in the story sometime between chapter one to three depending on how much more i deveop tiff's character.

anyways, enjoy the prologue and comment if you are actually interested in reading, please drink water and also LIAM CUT HIS HAIR AND LOUIS TWEETED AT HIM WHAT EVEN WAS TODAY

also side note, i am an ot5 and a larrie. if you are an anti or a neutral i don't mind you reading this fic but to warn you, when they are introduced louis and harry will be in a relationship. larry is real in this story so as long as you don't attack larries or me in the comments or on twitter because of this story i have no problem with you reading my fic.

okay bye for real, enjoy.

August 2015

"YOU DON'T KNOW YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL OHOH- that's what makes you beautiful" I scream at the top of my lungs as I jump around watching the San Siro concert DVD. What a rollercoaster that concert is. Their faces during the Right Now fan project are priceless. Most importantly, the FIVE boys TOGETHER... we don't see that anymore. Seeing just four hurts me so much, Niall singing Zayn's bridge in Night Changes, Liam hitting Zayn's high note in You & I and Best Song Ever. It hurts me.

Alone in my basement, once the concert had finished, I take a step back and look around. Only one week left until my whole world changes. I just finished my bachelor's degree in biochemistry with a minor in English at the Memorial University of Newfoundland -mun. Next week, I go off to med school and oh my god I can't wait. I got accepted into The Atlantic Bridge Program which recruits North Americans to go to medical school in Ireland- IRELAND! I'm back in my childhood room at my grandparent's until I leave. In my old bed. All of my things are packed up and ready to go for next week, I hope I like it there.

I turn off my lights, check the boys' Twitter accounts, and go to sleep.

**

"TIF!!!!" my grandfather shouts from the kitchen. It's a nickname, it's short for Tiffany.

Bacon- toughtons- eggs- hashbrowns. I can smell it. Good ol' Newfoundland breakfast.

I jump out of bed and race down the stairs -nearly falling, but I'm too stubborn to admit that- and practically fell into the kitchen when I saw a big fat breakfast.

"I thought you'd like it." my grandfather says to me while my grandmother sets the table.

"Now, what would you like to drink puddin'? We got milk, we got water, and we haves orange juice." my grandmother asked as she walked toward the fridge.

"None of it Peg, she wants coffee.. don't ya?" my grandfather says.

"I want coffee more than I want air." I really do have a coffee obsession. It started in middle school when I was in like six different school clubs (yes most of them were music-related, what's your point?) as well as an after-school babysitting job twenty hours per week. Sleep became not a thing and coffee became my religion, my saviour, my god. It got to a point where I would leave my house at 6:30am for band and the baristas at the Starbucks next to my bus stop not only knew my order but were also on a first-name basis with me, we knew general things about each other. They even bought me a present for my birthday.

"My god, can you believe you're gonna be twenty-two in a few days? Sure I remembers when you was just a little girl ten years old going to the school up the road." my grandfather says.