Perspective.

Meet Winter.

Long wavy black hair flies in the wind as Winter Collins, 24 year old who's dreams were crushed just like the rest of us, makes her way down the subway steps. In her heavy coat and scarf and dark wash skinny jeans she looks exactly like every other person in New York City. That same old 'I won't give you the time of day' look in her amber almost gold eyes never ceases to exist. She steps into the train and puts her arm around one of the upright metal poles. Pulling out her phone out of her pocket, she glares at what is on her lock screen.

[Winter's POV]

I need to change that. I'm referring to my lock screen wallpaper. It's of me and a poor excuse for a man. *scoffs* more like a boy. Pity. I've wasted 6 months of my life in false content. I take a sip my coffee.

"Shit!" I quietly exclaim.

Burnt my tongue again.

The sun is nearly down when I reached my fully packed apartment. Leaving for London in the morning will probably be the highlight of this, 'joke' of a life I have. I don't know about you, but I enjoy the feeling of being, lost. Lost isn't quite the word. More like, I like the feeling of being, how do I say this, 'difficult to be found'. Mostly because people don't worry about something you can't find. Unless it's your keys, or your mother in the supermarket.

Phil, one of my buddies over there told me he knows of a 'flat', as they call it over there, I could live in. He says it's in the same building as one of his good mates. I hope he's okay with me not talking to him ever. I'm not really a people person. People could describe me as a girl with an abrasive personality. I don't seem to mind because I'm not here to impress anyone. To quote Gone With The Wind " Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." Which is basically my attitude towards people in general.

As I lay in my bed with just my blanket and thoughts, sleep seems to be the furthest thing away from me. I would more likely want to cry much less sleep. With the burning question in my mind; "Who am I living for?" I tell myself to forget it and forget it in the morning, as I always do.

*Next Morning*

Phil met me at the airport in London. He drove me and all of my boxes of crap to the new flat. He told me he was going to call his mate that lives in the building to come down and help bring my things inside. Personally, I would of liked to do it myself. However that was probably my stubborn independent side taking so I let it slide and allowed him to call his friend.

An extremely tall guy with dark curly hair; wearing a black with white patterns sweater comes through the front glass doors of the building.

"Winter this is Pj" Phil explains.

"Cool to meet you." I say

I went for a hand shake and he went for a hug so I went for a hug but then he went for a handshake.

"I'm terribly sorry for my awkwardness." He shies away and scratches the back of his head.

"Hey look, don't apologize for who you are. The less you care about what people think of you the more life becomes livable." I instruct whist giving him a box.

He gives a small smile and says "Hey are these your drawing-"

I interrupt with "Don't look at my shit." And take away the box he was holding.

"Oh I'm sorry I-"

"What did I say about apologizing?" I ask and walk up the stairs to the apartment door. "Phil, your friend's a fucking pussy."

I hear Phil and Pj start a quiet conversation behind me.

"Don't mind Winter, Peej. That's just how she is. Don't worry, she grows on you once she's comfortable." Phil says.