As I Feel Myself Fall (One Direction)

Intro

Hello, then! As a beginning note, I don't know everything there is to know about One Direction. I'm using what I know of them to make this fanfic, and as I go along I may make their actions and personality more of how they...are. However, I'm going to intentionally be taking liberties with some aspects. The tour stuff, I've already made up myself.

I'm open to suggestions and for help as to how they are and more of the smaller details. AS LONG AS you are nice and polite about it.

Enjoy! (Oh, and obviously I don't own 1D...or anything to do with them. Only the plot of this and my characters!)

Intro:

There are one million and one ways to start off a story.

There's the typical, "Once Upon a Time." Mainly used for fairy-tales and little girl's day dreams, hoping some day a prince will come riding upon a white horse and sweep them off their feet, taking them to a castle off in the distance whilst the sun sets. It's cliche, overused as you might see it, and now-a-days kids get glazed looks in their eyes upon hearing those four words.

You could start it with a question. Sure, it's overused as well, but who doesn't like having a nice back-up plan for when you've typed just about as many introductory phrases as you possibly can think of, and all of them sound like you're hitting the reader upside the head. Besides, people love questions. It's also an easy fix for the ending of the story, where all you have to do is finally answer said question.

Some decide to go with a quote. A statistic. A paradox, mainly oxymoron. "There once was a...." boy, girl, dragon, dinosaur, pig, ear of corn. Fill-in-the-blanks work nicely.

And here I am talking about all the overused and redundant adventure starters when mine is one of the worst of all.

Mine came about through a wish. And death.

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I kept my head tucked against the frigid New York wind. My beanie was keeping my ears warm, but it wasn't much help to keep my hair in place, as it kept whipping me in the face. I puffed my cheeks out, knowing they would be rosy, either from the cold or welts from my hair, or both. I gritted my teeth and continued along, trying to make it to my apartment before it got any darker outside. A 17 year-old girl alone on the streets of New York after dark, even though it was almost brighter then and there were just about as many people, was perfect prey for the many perverts out there.

I fumbled to get my key from my jean pocket, as my hands were numb and my fingers stiff. I mentally cursed myself for forgetting my gloves at my place in the middle of November. I finally managed to free it and I quickly inserted and turned it in the key hole, the familiar click of the door sounding immensely welcome to me.

The door flew open, and I was pulled inside by my roommates, Kelty and Adam. Kelty shut it behind me just as quickly, shivering a bit and quite melodramatically as usual. My shins were still aching from running around work all day and walking up the stairs all the way to our floor, the 15th, as the elevator was still being worked on.

"Lander, you're late, again." Kelty said in her tinkling voice. Though she didn't look it, with her 5 foot 2, 113 pound frame, and baby face, she was 23, pushing 24 in the next month. She frowned slightly at me, the space between her eyebrows crinkling a bit, and I felt bad for a moment, knowing she hated wrinkles and that there would surely be a crease there later.

"Not my fault, entirely, this time," I said airily, maneuvering my way around her a bit so I could head to my room.

"Pray tell, was it a 7 year-old or an elderly lady?" Adam asked from his perch on the counter top, watching his girlfriend, Kelty, and I with amusement.