Peyton looked out the apartment window to the hazy, hurried cityscape that was to be her home for the next 3 years. She sighed and rolled out of her newly purchased king sized bed. Heading towards the bathroom her eyes caught the deep emerald and gold bound photo album she was given by her friends and family as a “goodbye and good luck” gift before heading off to the university of her dreams. Shame the Fashion Institute of Technology had to be located in such a city; New York City. A city so far from what she was used to, so far from what inspired her, so far from what she longed for. The lack of open spaces in this densely populated landscape left her feeling nauseous and claustrophobic, despite the extravagantly high ceilings in her modern apartment. Reaching for the green and gold reminder of home she paused and decided against opening it and falling into another spiral of homesickness and depression. Peyton had been in New York for 3 days and she must have opened that book at least 50 times, attempting to absorb as much of the love that went into making it as she could, sucking it dry of all the happy memories and reminders of home.
It wasn’t only the uninspiring cityscape of New York that she found it hard to connect with. It was the people. The uncaring, faceless people living their hectic lifestyles with no thought for anyone but themselves. She was at a welcoming function at the university on Saturday night and found this very much to be the case. Other students and teachers ignored her, not bothering to include her in conversation, and the few that did engage in brief discussion with her asked how she was but couldn’t stop talking about themselves long enough to hear her answer. She found the people she had met in her brief time here were selfish and rude, obsessed with their own personal agenda and only cared to listen to those more important or higher