Short story I'm working on, this is the Third-Person perspective.

She sat there tapping her feet against the floor as her music blasted against her ears. She closed her eyes for a second, until a long-deserted bridge captured her imagination. A man. Maybe a woman. It wasn’t clear. Stood at the end, extending their hand. Just then a large beep managed to open her eyes. It was her music. Maybe. It seemed like that at first. She realised a little boy looking at her curiously from the seat ahead. He smiled guiltily.

“Can I have it back?”

“Um-“

“My ball,”

“Oh, um?”

“Mummy she’s not giving me my ball!” he yelled at a blonde woman next to him, rummaging through her hand bag, perhaps looking for something. He was ignored.

Claire looked around confused, a ball? She was hit by a ball? But it was a beep, sure it was a beep. Her eyes searched eagerly, wanting to avoid any possible human clash. She looked under her bags. Opened them up. In her water bottle, she paused eying it, why would the ball be in her water bottle? She looked crazily and then her eyes laid on the floor, there it was a red ball. She picked it up. Not before glaring at it in confusion, she passed it on to the boy.