The rain poured down heavily, drenching my long red curls and soaking them. Fortunately, my thick plastic neon-yellow rain coat, covered most of me, and my ugly hideous dollar store red rubber boots kept my feet from freezing. I panted heavily, gasping for breath as I struggled to keep up with the roaming winds.

The sun began to rise, light orange, soft pink, pale yellow, the colours painted across the sky, slowly. I tried to go faster, and fell face first into a mud puddle.

Coughing and sputtering, I managed to get myself up and spit out the remaining muck. My rubber boots had gotten stuck in the knee-deep mud. Shit! I was now barefooted, my usual pale skin covered in mud. I groaned heavily and began walking through the mud bare-footed as I made my way home.

"Taylor! Where were you?" my older, rich, perfect cousin, Nancy Scott, gave me a huge hug as she stared me down. "What the hell happened to you?"

I managed a laugh. "Got stuck in the mud, I guess," I replied softly, brushing back a red strand of hair.

Nancy flipped back her long perfect blond hair, the hair that I had always wanted to have with the gorgeous blue eyes, but I had gotten stuck with the curly red hair and big green eyes. Nancy had the perfect tan, no moles or freckles. I had incredibly pale skin, with scatters of freckles and the occasional mole or so on my skin.

"We're gonna miss our flight," Nancy moaned miserably, as she dabbed some more mascara on her eyelashes.

I tore off my mud covered coat and walked through Nancy's giant house, finding my way to one of the biggest bathrooms and shutting the door quietly. I stripped off my clothes and jumped into the shower, letting the soothing heat overtake my body.

I changed into an extra pair of one of Nancy's designer outfits, which she had promised would fit, since she was about as skinny as me but way bigger in the chest. Nancy was eighteen and I was sixteen, just sixteen as of three months, nineteen days ago.

A black mini skirt, ballet flats and a red tank top from Aeropastale that was quite low, which I felt uncertain about, but it covered enough so I reluctantly let it pass.

I attempted to straighten my wavy hair, but it just flopped, so I used some bobby pins to pin some of it up. I swiped on some purple eye shadow, a sliver of black eyeliner and some mascara before picking up my bags.

I, Taylor MacKenzie, had been dreaming of going to England to pursure my dream of being a singer since I was little. When I was five, my mom got divorced and re-married to a man called Logan Scott and his sister had Nancy. Logan and my mom now had five kids, not including me, Abby ten, Sam eight, Daisy and Flora, six and Greg four. They were all incredibly adorable, beautiful and smart . I already missed them. Ever since we were little Nancy and I had practically forced to be friends and to hang out with each other. Nancy, was just spoiled, in my opinion.

Nancy had the same dream as mine and did have a beautiful voice as well, much better than mine. We've always been quite competitive, she skipped first grade so I worked hard to skip second, but I had been a bit of a nerd back then, I never had any friends and still didn't have many, other than Belinda Matthews and Penny Waters, who were in the 'geek' clique.

Now, Nancy and I were going to London together this evening and leaving California, to reach our dreams. The thing was...Nancy and I got along...but I hated her. She always made rude comments about me, and embarrassed me about everything that she could think about. I didn't know how we were supposed to live together.

When I entered the kitchen, which has marble grand floors, granite countertops with a long island and a million cupboards and a two fridges, a grand dinning table that was polished daily and a gold sparkling chandelier that hung overhead. A 92 inch flat screen TV was built into the wall at one end of the kitchen. Nancy was sitting there, blabbing about something on her phone.

I shuffled quietly across the floor, feeling so out of place in Nancy's grand house. I searched the fridge only to find, tiny fancy meals on golden platters.

"Taylor, are you ready to go?" Nancy demanded, peering into the fridge, trying to figure out what I was looking at.

My heart skipped a beat. Suddenly I was incredibly nervous about leaving America and going into a strange new country.

I just stared blankly ahead.

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Well?"

"Erm," I murmured, I have to admit I'm a very shy person, even around Nancy. "I guess...do you think I could grab a snack?"

Nancy wasn't listening. First she admired her perfect manicure on her long perfect nails and then she began texting someone.

I just sighed and finally found something suitable to eat, a handful of carrot sticks, a granola bar and an apple.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll call you when I get to England, Hilary, whatever, bye," Nancy hung up and ordered her butler to carry out our luggage to the limo.

The poor old guy in the tux seemed really tired as he bent down to pick up our luggage.

"No," I whispered, quite loudly. I surprised myself, I wasn't one to talk to strangers.

Nancy and the butler looked at me in shock, their eyes wide.

"I-I mean," I said slowly and quietly, my cheeks flaming red and my gaze fixed on the white floor. "I-I can take my things."

I loaded my suitcases in the back of the limo and gave a silent good-bye to California, as I sat in the limo next to Nancy.

"Um...er..." I couldn't speak. I was too nervous, all the people around me.

"Whatever, I've got it," Nancy snapped, clearly pissed off that I couldn't talk to the people in security. "I'm sorry, but my cousin has a disability of nervousness..." her voice trailed off as she began to talk to them about my luggage and they loaded it on.

I bit my lip, trying not to cry. Now, everyonw thought I was mental. I wasn't. I've always been shy, but not mental. I began to sing quietly to myself, 'Rolling In The Deep' by ADELE. She inspired me to become a singer. Her voice was beautiful and pure.

Nancy, on the other hand,liked singers like Katy Perry and Ke$ha. Really famous artists with voices that annoyed me. I found them fake and their songs all sounded the same to me.

I followed behind Nancy, trying to make myself as less noticable as possible as I made my way through the crowd.

Before I knew it, I was munching on a chocolate donut, sitting beside Nancy who was texting her friend again. Our flight boarded in ten minutes.

Nancy glanced up from her phone, staring with her extremley high eyebrows raised. "You really want to get fat, don't you," she commented rudely.

I ignored her, and she eventually turned back to her phone.

Once we got in England, we were going to a high university for the talented arts which included singing as well as acting and performing in front of large audiences. I was really going to have to work on that.

The black designer mini skirt was really started to bug me. It was itching against my back. What a shitty material.

BEEP! "May flight number 43 please board, I repeat, may flight number 43 please board as soon as possible!" bleeped a greasy haired man in a fancy tux on the large intercom..

I picked up my carry on bag, an old backpack that had belong to Abby when she was in grade five. It was a navy blue which was starting to fade. Inside was my BlackBerry, iPod, a book, two packs of Jolly Ranchers and gum.

A big crowd closed in on us as Nancy and I gave our passports to a lady in black pointy high heels, a black suit and a black skirt, with her brown hair pulled back into a high pony tail and her crooked square glasses hanging perfectly over her lopsided nose, it was easy to believe that she was very serious about her job.

She handed me back my passport, and I followed Nancy into a long hallway which then led onto the plane. I walked very slowly, because I was super nervous and had never been on a plane before. A lot of people were getting annoyed with me because I was going so slow and someone shoved me down hard, sending my flying, falling onto the rough ground.

I blinked, opening my eyes. Pain surged through my body, but I shrugged it off. People stared at me blankly, waiting for me to get up so they could board the plane. An annoyed voice of 'hurry up!' 'Move already' was speaking through the crowd.

I was so so nervous. My face was bright red from embarrassment, I could hardly breathe everyone was looking at ME!

As I began to pull myself up so I could retrieve my backpack and my ballet flats that had fallen, a hand gripped mine tightly and pulled me up. I didn't bother to look up, because I knew that Nancy would be laughing at me, so I mumbled a quiet:

"Thanks Nancy," and bent down to grab my bag when I heard laughter but not Nancy laughter. Nancy's laughter was high pitched, giggly and false. This laugh was funny, normal and it sounded more like a pleasent chuckle.

I turned around to see a guy wearing a grey t-shirt and blue baggy jeans, with gorgeous blond hair and blue eyes. I found myself blushing from staring at the gorgeous guy. I can't believe that I had called this cutie 'Nancy'!

"Do I look like a girl to you?" he asked with a thick accent, which I couldn't put my finger on. It wasn't British or Australian, I knew that. It sounded a bit in between.

I shook my head, still blushing as the guy handed me my bag and flats.

"Good," he replied and smiled at me.

God! Was that ever fuccking cute!

"S-s-sorry about th-that," I stuttered, realizing I sounded completley mental.

He only laughed. "Nervous, aren't you? That's cute."

I blushed even more. "I-I'm not nervous," I argued, lying, tasting the bitterness on my tonuge.

He only laughed even harder. "You know, you really suck at lying."

I blushed, my heart pounding inside of my chest. I tried not to stare into his startling, bright, intense big blue eyes.

"I'm Niall, by the way," he said politely, holding out his hand.

I only hesitated for a second before shaking it. "I-I'm Taylor MacKenzie. I-I'm from California," I almost clamped my hand over my mouth. What was I think, babbling about myself to a stranger? And obviously I was from California, although I didn't look like it. California girls looked like Nancy, long blond hair and blue eyes, not like me, curly red hair, pale skin and green eyes.

Niall smiled. "I'm from Ireland, but I live in London now."

"Oh," I said casually as we entered the plane. "That's interesting." So that's what his accent was, Irish.

"What brings you to London?" Niall asked. "I mean, if you don't mind telling me."

I blushed. "Well...my cousin Nancy and I are going to a prefessional arts university..." my voice trailed off.

"Neat," he replied, honestly. "Well, maybe I'll talk to you later, Taylor." he slipped something inside my backpack before taking a seat in first class.

Great, I thought. He must be some snotty rich blond from Ireland and flirts with every girl he sees, no matter how ugly they were. I ran into Nancy who was busy texting, as usual.

"Ow!" she squealed. "Fuck you, Taylor, you stepped on my toe!" she cursed rudely at me.

"Sorry," I apologized. "Er, Nancy, where do we sit?"
"Well," Nancy began. "I'm sitting in first class next to this SUPER cute Irish blond guy. His blue eyes are so big and cute!" she sighed.

Pain throbbed through my heart, and I did my best to shrug it off. I had hardly known Niall for two minutes, so why did I have to feel jealous of Nancy when she got to sit beside him?

"Anyway," she went on. "Your seat number is also in first class, because, OF COURSE, mommy made me BUY you a first class ticket, too, just to be nice. You wouldn't have been able to afford a normal seat anyway," she sighed. "That's your seat, over there, next to that ugly brunette with straight hair and square glasses."

I wanted to smack Nancy, but I bit my lip and made my way over to the brunette. As I got closer, I realized the girl was actually really pretty. Shoulder length straightened brown hair, scattered freckles across her nose and cheeks, big brown eyes that were hidden beneath the square glasses that kept falling down her nose, and every few moments she'd push it back up. She was burried in a book, reading intently. She wore a plain brown dull T-shirt, baggy sweat pants and white sneakers.

I sat down and opened my backpack, a peice of folded up paper went flying through the air. It slipped through my long fingers. I glanced around curiously, trying to see where it had gone.

"Is this yours?"

I turned around to see the girl, holding the slip of paper.

I nodded, managing a smile smile. "Thanks."
The girl nodded. "Your welcome. I'm Quinn Wilson," she held out her hand to shake, which seemed way too formal for me but I didn't want to seem rude, so I shook.

"Taylor MacKenzie," I answered. "I'm sixteen."
"Seventeen," she replied. "You heard of One Direction?" she asked eagerly.

I shook my head. "Sorry, is that a TV show?" I asked.

She laughed, and her laughter sounded so alive - and real. "No," she replied through her giggle fit. "It's a boy band."
"Oh," I replied stupidly, "sorry, never heard of them."
Taylor groaned. "Here, I'm reading their book," she showed me the cover, which was an image of five good looking boys. One was a curly haired brunette with beautiful green eyes, a brunette with Justin Bieber hair-style with blue-green eyes, a brunette with wavy hair and brown eyes, a darker brunette with more of a mohawk styled-hair, with light brown eyes. And, as I held back my panic gasp, the fifth boy had gorgeous blonde hair and big intense blue eyes. It was the same Irish boy I'd met earlier.

"Quinn," I said, through gritted teeth, trying to stay calm. "They're an American band right?"
"No," Quinn replied automatically, "they're British."

I sighed in relief.

"All accept the blonde one, Niall Horan. He's from Ireland," Quinn told me.

I nearly died. "I met him," I whispered. "He's on this plane."
Quinn began laughing, patting me on the back as she twitched in her seat. "You're halarious, Taylor!" she laughed.

Then she sat completley straight, staring straight ahead as she looked at me and began to scream.