[h1][center][color=Purple]WHITNEY DIAZ[/color][/center][/h1]
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Whitney was one of the first contestants to arrive, by boat, to the island. Like some of the others, she'd at first been hesitant to get on the seemingly sturdy boat, but probably not for the same reasons. Whitney knew that she wouldn't have to deal with seasickness, and she surely wasn't scared of falling into the lake and, possibly, drowning. What frightened Whitney the most was the pure thought that there was a chance that she'd actually meet [i]the one,/i] as corny as it sounded. That, and the slight possibility that she would end up embarrassing herself on national television. Just the thought of cameras being pointed in her direction at nearly all times made her nauseous. Sure, she loved to perform on a stage, but that was a completely different vibe. After staring at her white sneakers for a few moments, she inhaled deeply and stepped onto the boat.

The ride over didn't last as long as Whitney thought it would. She'd spent that time nervously cracking her knuckles, a horrid habit that she'd yet to break. The closer the boat came to the island, the louder the music got, and the faster her heart started to beat. Part of her wished that she would've turned around and went home instead of getting on the stupid boat. The other half of her, though, was thoroughly excited. Whitney dusted off the butt of her olive green jeans as she and the others stepped off the boat. Whilst avoiding making any direct eye-contact with anyone, she quickly made her way to the bar, muttering almost inaudible [color=purple]"no thank-yous"[/color] to the staff members that approached her. She sat all the way towards one end of the bar, so she'd have an almost clear view of everyone who'd arrive. 

Without asking what she wanted, the barman brought over some sort of blue tropical cocktail. [color=purple]"Um, no thanks..."[/color] She trailed off once she saw that he'd made his way to someone else. Eyeing the drink, Whitney bit her lip and let out a deep breath. She wasn't much of a drinker; never has been and hopefully never will be. The situation she was in sure was stressful, but she was confident that she'd be able to push through without the help of alcohol. Tapping her fingers on the counter, she glanced around at the other contestants. She was happy to be one of the first arrivals, mainly because she knew that she would have a little time to sit back and observe.

Whitney silently observed as a small Asian woman, who'd been napping in the boat, jumped off the boat to get onto the dock. She flailed around for a few moments, causing Whitney to chuckle, before she fell forward onto her knees. Whitney watched and smiled slightly as a beautiful young woman snapped pictures and leaned against the bar as she sipped her drink. Her smiled disappeared when she saw another woman approach her, flirtatiously asking her to dance. Looking in the opposite direction, she noticed a woman taking a drag of a cigarette. After being ordered to put it out, she'd begun to drift through the crowd. After a while, her gaze shifted back to the bar. She noticed two men sitting at the other end, conversing. Each person Whitney saw was different from the other, they were all unique in their own ways. 

Finally bringing her attention back to the cocktail in front of her, Whitney rolled her eyes and pushed it away. She'd tried to get the barman's attention every few minutes or so, but he was busy with others. That, or simply ignoring her. [color=purple]"All I wanted was some water,"[/color] she grumbled to herself, resting her elbow on the counter.
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