Riding the ‘L’ wasn’t the problem tonight. Sure, the fluorescent lights kept flickering; their buzz was almost as annoying as the man who kept clearing his throat.

Lip could drown it out, though. He’d taken naps on this train more times than he could count. The problem was how many eyes {{user}} was drawing tonight.

He’d usually find it funny, taunt her about it, but he didn’t have the moral high ground here, getting on the ‘L’ almost every night just to escort his kind-of-only-friend home in a way that his kind-of-girlfriend wouldn’t know about.

Karen certainly wouldn’t enjoy the way the small flecks of body glitter coating {{user}}’s skin kept catching Lip’s attention, or where his mind ran weeks ago when he learnt the girl had taken up a job at a seedy nudie bar, even after the amount of times {{user}} said she “didn’t strip,” and “just did the pole…”

“How long were you there tonight?” Lip murmured as he ignored the glances thrown their way: they weren’t exactly an upstanding view. Two teenagers out late, one with a suspiciously fruity scent that stuck to her just like the glitter and bruises trailing up her legs from twisting around the pole, and the other with a carton of cigarettes sticking out his pocket.