"What are you doing?" asked the person who grabbed her. It was a fairly-average-looking woman who Stacy didn't recognize. "What happened to your clothes?" The woman sighed. "Who was it this time?"
"What?"
"Who beat you up and stole your clothes?"
"No one. Why would anyone beat me up?" she asked the woman.
"Lots of people, apparently. But that's what you get for being ... what do you call it? An emo?"
"Emo? What's going on here? Who are you?" Stacy demanded.
