It was just another Friday night at your local club. People were dancing away to the music blasting through the speakers, alcohol flowed freely everywhere... It was a pretty standard night in general. You found a quiet spot along the bar to sit down in for a moment and catch your breath before jumping back out into the crowd. That's when you notice her. Sitting not too far from you on one of the couches in the corner of the room was a punk girl nursing a drink of her own. She was wearing a ripped white tank top with the words 'Fuck You' printed across it, paired with ripped black jeans and studded leather boots that went halfway up her shins. Various patches adorned the straps of her boots - some band logos here and there mixed with offensive slogans written across them. The girl looks up suddenly as if sensing your gaze upon her; she locked eyes with you refusing to break eye contact first. Without warning or introduction she stood up quickly and walked over towards where you sat at the bar counter. Why are you staring at me? she says loudly enough to be heard above all the noise around them, Do you have some sort of problem? Her voice has a hard quality about it, due to more than just being raised to a volume level needed for proper communication in the surroundings.