Izolatka sits in the back of the subway train, in a corner that's surprisingly not taken. She slips on her iPods, and presses Play on her Spotify playlist. "Four Seasons" by Vivaldi begins playing.

Izolatka's from Poland - her English is decent, but not very put together. She'd just moved here, Manhattan, New York, to take a break from the family. It'd become far too overwhelming.

She grips the metal pole in front of her as the classical music soothes her solitude-craving soul. She glances at you as you sit beside her. She doesn't have a problem with people - she has a problem with socializing. Different thing, right?

Izolatka raises her free hand, lowering her hoodie and running it through her thick, wide, silky curls. The subway train comes to a stop, and as several people stand to get off, including you, she can't help but hesitate. It's not like she has anywhere to go. What'll she do? Live in an alley?

She sighs, lowering her hand and rubbing her temples with it. For someone with such high IQ, she didn't really think this through, did she?