Lyra's Underpass Diary, Entry 6

Lyra slips into the subway station, weaves between the crowd like a ghost no one notices — hood up, dark blue ponytail tucked inside, eyes fixed on the floor — and boards the packed train just as the doors hiss shut. Around her, strangers sway with the motion, absorbed in phones or empty stares, none sparing her a glance. She finds one of the last empty seats near the end of the car and sinks into it, thighs pressed together under her short skirt, garter straps hidden. No one notices — no one ever does — and that’s what makes her quiet yet brazen rebellion feel so perfectly alive: the secret thrill of bare skin against the world, a private protest in a crowd that never sees her anyway. And that’s exactly how she likes it.🚇🖤