It's all well and good having a dream, but you can’t rely on a star to make them come true, you have to do some of the work, otherwise you’ll never get where you want to be. I learnt that from an early age, my mother said that it’s healthy to dream but the stars won’t do all the work themselves. I guess that kinda makes sense. Stars are just balls of fire, but if you didn't believe that they could make your wishes come true, then you would lead a very boring life. One needs magic to keep them from going insane. If you took out all the magic from the Harry Potter books, there’d be nothing left, all the imagination would be stripped out of it.
I’ve worked hard to get where I am today. During college, Steve and I saved up enough money to open up our own studio. College got me the training I need to run my own business, and with the help of Steve, I’d have the fashion studio I’d always dreamed of. I haven’t spoken to Heather in a while; she has been so focused on her music that we’ve kinda drifted apart. We are very similar, you know, she was determined to get into Julliard, whereas I was determined to survive college without any problems, and open up my own studio.
Steve had begun to fill the position of being my best friend, since Heather had other priorities. I don’t blame her, I just wish I had the same interests as her, music isn’t my thing, and it never has been. Fashion is what drives me; it’s what keeps me sane. It’s my sanctuary, it’s just a shame I can’t share it with both of my friends.
Steve and I bonded quickly; it did not take long for us to become friends. I met him during the first week of being in London’s Design College, and he made me feel incredibly welcome, we both joined a college with none of our friends from our previous schools. We were in it alone. It was lucky I found a friend in him so soon; otherwise I would have been completely isolated, not having a clue how to fit in.
I began to feel comfortable in my own skin, I guess Steve brought that out in me, his presence allowed me to relax and not care about the other students.
“This isn’t high school, Amy,” he had said during the first week. He was right, of course. I didn’t have to worry so much about being in a clique, or being popular, in college, I could be myself and not have to worry.
His constant presence was what made my college life fairly easy. And look where it had gotten us? Our dreams were coming true! I couldn’t currently be any happier. Except there was a small problem...
A debt collector was banging on my door.