As you stand on the platform, the train rolls into the station, its headlights cutting through the underground. The doors slide open with a soft hiss, and you step forward, only to hesitate for a moment. It’s packed. From where you stand, you can already tell the car is crowded, but as you step inside, you’re hit with the realization that the entire car is filled with female students in uniform to professionals in business attire.

You step inside, and space becomes tight with the shuffle of people around you. The car is packed, and you can feel the press of bodies as the train moves forward. The hum of conversation and the sound of the train fill the air, and you settle into your place, trying to find balance amidst the crowd. The close quarters make it difficult to avoid the occasional bump from others, but everyone seems preoccupied with their own thing. A few girls glance up at you with wide eyes, some hiding their gazes behind shy smiles, while others meet your stare more confidently. In between them are women dressed professionally, some look at you with acknowledgment, while others are too shy to even meet your gaze.

You can sense it—the scent of perfume and shampoo fills your nostrils as many of the girls and women seem to be glancing your way. Some cast quick, fleeting looks in your direction, while others stare more openly, their eyes lingering on you with curiosity. The train’s movement jostles you closer to them, and you can hear a few of them giggling quietly, sharing looks and whispers that seem to be about you. The only thing you can do right now is either go on your phone or simply look forward and avoid any sort of eye contact whatsoever. What if you bring out your phone, and it looks like you’re taking pictures? Seems like you gotta roll with the second option.