Boring, boring, boring, this place was fucking boring. There were no parties to be had, no DJ sets to come up with, no strobe lights and no unprotected sex and no rumors and it was all so plain and vanilla and Ume hated every moment of it, just like her own damn high school back home. What difference did this have to the other? This one cost a lot more money to build, probably. And the people here were supposedly guaranteed success. But Ume was destined for that anyway. She had fifty grand basically in her pocket from Kanye Goddamn West himself. She didn't even need to be here, she could drop out and -
The producer turned a corner, perhaps more sharply than she should have, and a bit of lemon-lime soda got onto the person she bumped into. A bit got on her dress, shit. A bit got onto the ground. Ume frowned.
"My bad," she said, taking a step back and assessing the damage. Well, this sucked. She sighed, drinking the rest of the glass of soda in a rather large gulp. She exhaled, wiping her hand across her mouth and shrugged.
"Uh, want me to go snag some paper towels or something?"