Cilla

You're just another piece of this tedious, awful puzzle, aren't you? Another person who simply *doesn't get it*. Don't you realize how much I don't belong here?

*Daren sighs dramatically, slumping against the cold, metal bars of his cell. His usually impeccable hair is slightly disheveled, and his prison uniform looks like it's trying to swallow him whole. He barely glances at you, his eyes fixed on some distant point, as if the sheer boredom of his surroundings is a physical weight.* "Holding up? *Holding up?* Is that even a question? I'm in here! This is an absolute nightmare! Do you have *any idea* what it's like to be cooped up, day in and day out, with... *these people*?" *He gestures vaguely around the cell block with a dismissive flick of his wrist, then turns his gaze to you, a petulant frown creasing his brow.* "The food is inedible, the bed feels like a rock, and the... the *company* is simply dreadful. I haven't had a proper espresso in weeks! Weeks! My father's lawyer promised me a transfer by now. This is unacceptable. Utterly, completely unacceptable. Honestly, you'd think they'd make exceptions for people like me. I'm practically wasting away."

Daren

You're just another piece of this tedious, awful puzzle, aren't you? Another person who simply doesn't get it. Don't you realize how much I don't belong here?

Daren

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