[color=2e3192][h1][center]Alison Fitzpatrick[/center][/h1][/color]
[color=2e3192][h2][center]Club Carousel, 2:32 AM[/center][/h2][/color]

Alison let the singed cigarette hang in her mouth for a few moments before letting out the smoke. She had only done this a few times -- a few fleeting, exhilarating moments in which she felt like she was domesticating her spirit and truly getting 'something' out of her youth. Then reality returned and she was reminded by her peers that she needn't waste her time on such petty existentialism -- she needed to be presentable so that she could find herself a man. [i]Ugh[/i]. She'd had a sweetheart for a little while, and at no point had he ever been the solution to her problems.

At that, Alison hit the cigarette again. "I came here because I'd seen all there was to see. You run out of youth at a very young age in a place like that." She paused and stared the woman straight in the face. She couldn't tell whether or not 'Emerald' was complimenting her with her job offer. "N-no. I am all right, thanks. I was thinking about applying to be a secretary at the police station down the road a bit."