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The Poet once asked Aurora, "Aren't you tired of this world's contempt, of their contempt?" To which she simply reacted and smiled, "I chose my path, and I'll stroll it, back straight, head high, not seeking their validation but commemorating my presence. For at the end, it's our hearts that matter, not their words."

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Every night, as Aurora indulged in the luminous moonlight, her eyes twinkled brighter than the city's lively lights, for she was not the product of social taboo, however a beacon of modesty and self-respect, dominating life on her terms. Aurora was not a victim of her circumstances however a hero for herself, a valiant lady traversing the edges of social mores, happy and unabashed.

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One of her most treasured interactions was with a male known to her as "The Poet". He was a damaged soul fixing his injuries through verses, seeking solace in Aurora's company. Their bond had grown to one of shared respect and extensive conversations. To which she merely reacted and smiled, "I picked my course, and I'll stroll it, back directly, head high, not seeking their validation however celebrating my existence.

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