The platform is always filled to the brim. Groups and individuals staking out a spot separate from those they don't know, so that no one mistakes them for a collective. Everyone is there for their own reasons, but they are all there for the same reason. They all want to escape the coast and find their way to the city.

She's got sand in her pockets, there's always sand in her pockets. It gets everywhere even though she hasn't set foot on the beach in months. There's a layer of salt against her skin that won't ever wash off no matter how hard she rubs.

Sweat drips down her back, she's only a quarter of the way through her journey. The air conditioning on the bus was broken. There was a sign on the door like she had the option of waiting for another bus, a bus that wouldn't come for another two hours. There were no options where she lived, just sand and heat and hate.

The train is late, people are agitated watching the lights of the digital clock above them as though it was personally responsible for the train's delay. Daisy doesn't look at the clock, she doesn't need to, the train will come when it comes and it does, only four minutes late, which is pretty good considering.

Daisy pushes past the crowd, fighting her way onto the carriage. She's one of the first and has the pick of seats that will fill up. Everyone is tired and hot so she opts for the lone seat at the top of the stairs. She wants an easy escape and the only person's sweat she wants to feel on her body is her own.

A couple of old ladies sit across from her, she smiles politely before making a point of putting her headphones in hoping that's enough to deter them from including her in their conversation. She wonders, for a moment, if they are looking for the same thing she is but that seemed too good to be true. Anyone on the train could be heading in the same direction as her, it was impossible to tell. They all looked the same as the people she saw everyday. But then, Daisy supposed, so did she.

The journey is both long and short. It's long at first, stopping and starting. Then it's long because there are no stops, it feels like the train winds around itself, like they're going in a beautiful tree filled circle. Then the stopping starts again, just enough to jerk her from her daydream every time.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the train has made its final stop and everyone is filing out more relaxed and more stressed than they were when they got on. Daisy lets everyone leave before her, she's not in a hurry and she's not interested in being crushed by the crowd as they try to squeeze through the ticket gates. They were not very good at forming an orderly queue, Daisy had learnt.

The crowd at Central Station feels more like it could be filled with people going the same way, but they all meld into one big mass of colour. It's difficult to tell where one person ends and another begins. Daisy puts her head down and marches through the cavernous canyon of the stations main floor. Her journey's not done, she doesn't have time to look for like minded people. Not yet.

The sun is burning the concrete below her feet, she can feel it through her canvas shoes. Sweat soaks through her t-shirt underneath her backpack while she waits for her bus to arrive. She knows there are other buses she can catch, or she thinks she knows, but there's only one she knows for sure so she waits. The crowd has thinned enough for her to pick up on a few folks that might potentially be heading where she is heading. Still she doesn't trust her instinct enough to follow them onto an unknown bus.

Eventually her bus arrives, it's almost full but she forces her way on. Daisy's only small, she doesn't take up a lot of space, she works hard at that. She's still got her headphones in, but she can still hear the rising conversation from the people around her. She can't make out the words but there's excitement in their tone. She's ninety-nine percent sure these people are going the same way she is.

The people on the bus don't look at her, don't notice her. That's okay. She doesn't look like one of them. She's in disguise. The disguise she wears everyday. It's important that the land of sand and sea and hate she comes from doesn't see what lies beneath.

Her stop arrives and almost everyone files out of the bus. They walk in an awkward line, together but not together towards their destination. There are different groups, well-dressed twenty-somethings pretending not to be cool. Teenage girls squealing so loudly only dogs can hear. Tired looking parents who would rather be anywhere else. And Daisy. There's no denying it anymore, they know they're all there for the same reason.

Daisy peels off from the group, there's a bathroom on the way but it's always overflowing at events like this. She knows there's another one on the other side of the building that barely anyone sees. She waits a moment by the wall so none of the crowd try to follow, she wants to be alone to put on her war paint.

She is alone, at first, the bathroom is as abandoned as Daisy expected it to. She's finally safe to remove her mask. She peels off her sweat drenched clothes before replacing them with her outfit for the evening. She's proud of herself as she stares at her reflection. Plain black jeans have become a bouncy skirt featuring every colour you could think of. She's still wearing a t-shirt, but the new one shows five familiar faces staring at her through the mirror. It's nice, comforting. Something she wouldn't dare wear back at home for risk of being tormented and teased.

Her solitude is soon interrupted, by a girl that seems to be in a similar situation to Daisy. They eye each other warily but avoid confrontation. They share a common goal, they can share a common bathroom. The girl disappears into one of the stalls while Daisy gets started on her make-up. She needs a solid base before she can work her magic, and it has to be strong enough to withstand the heat.

Daisy is halfway through drawing a rainbow on her cheek when the girl leaves the stall. She's swapped her jeans and t-shirt for a party dress that appears to be made out of t-shirts like the one Daisy's wearing. It's amazing. Daisy smiles at the girl in the wonderful dress, the girl smiles back before taking her place next to Daisy in front of the mirror.

Distracted, Daisy smudges the edge of her rainbow swearing to herself. The girl next to her let's out a huff of a giggle and Daisy can't help but smile back. It's kind of a silly thing to get upset about considering where they are, considering how far she's come.

"Do you want me to?" asked the girl gesturing towards the makeup brush in Daisy's hand.

"Sure," Daisy replied quickly handing over the brush.

Time seems to stop as the girl pulls Daisy's face towards her and slowly starts to shape the picture on her cheek. Daisy can feel her heartbeat in her face. It's oddly intimate, although they haven't said more than ten words to each other. They don't need to, there's an impossible solidarity that comes from the knowing they have at least one thing in common.

When the girl is done, Daisy repays the favour without a word. She paints a rainbow heart on the cheek of a girl whose name she doesn't know and it's something she'll remember for the rest of her life.

They leave the bathroom together, smiling, rising excitement filling their bones. Without a word their hands drift towards each other, sort of swinging in unison for a moment before the girl grabs Daisy and holds. Daisy doesn't say anything, she doesn't even look. She just smiles at her feet, her whole body blushing.

In a couple of hours she will have to hop on a bus, and then a train, and then a bus, and she will be back near the surf and sands of her past. For now, Daisy is happy as she walks around the stadium hand in hand with a rainbow hearted girl into the crowd of people that feel what she feels.

Above their heads in bright lights and big sounds are the things that brought them together. It doesn't matter who they were, who their family is, where they came from. They're the same here, they're together here, they're family here. They're all fans here.