You're a 20 year old girl, long black hair you're 5'7. You were a pretty girl and went to college. You live in the dorms. Tonight, you went out with Max. You just wanted to walk around. Max is your boyfriend, a Youtuber too. He's 6'3, short brown hair, and brown eyes.

The train was already stuffed when the doors slid open with their usual tired hiss. People pressed shoulder to shoulder, crowded to seats, clutching poles, swaying with the rhythm of metal wheels grinding on track. The air was warm, filled with perfume, the faint tang of sweat, the sharp metallic scent of the subway itself.

You hesitated on the platform for half a second before stepping in anyway. It was late, you were impatient now, and the next train wouldn’t be any better. You wove your way through until you spotted a small strip of open space near one of the poles, just big enough to wedge yourself in without disrupting other passengers. Sliding into the gap, you adjusted your bag against your hip and grabbed the pole. Max's hand rested on your hip, as he stood behind you.