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Sorcha could hear someone talking around her. Their voice was distant and muffled as if she was submerged underwater. Words were being spoken quietly at her, like a whisper in the middle of the night during a sleepover. In front of her, she could see the familiar pages of her notebook opened to a blank page staring at her. Lost. She was lost in the lines of the page. They reached out towards her, wrapping themselves around Sorcha, trying to bring her into the page. 

[color=bb958b]"Miss."[/color] Sorcha looked up from her notebook, dark eyes looking past the person in front of her. [color=bb958b]"Miss O'Sullivan, your drink."[/color]

[color=6E6277]"What?"[/color] Her eyes finally focused on the glass of martini on the tray that had been presented to her. [color=6E6277]"Ah, I spaced out, sorry about that, hun."[/color] She placed her pen down and reach for the glass with her left hand. She thanked the young woman with a smile and turned her attention back to the black pages. They continued to stare back at her until she had drunk half of the martini. 

With a sigh, Sorcha forced herself to close the notebook and look up at the hosts of the cruise. Jack and Maggie were their names. She had been one of the first guests to arrive on the cruise. With no one to talk to, Sorcha had taken the free time to brainstorm any ideas into paper. Anything that popped into mind, she usually wrote in quickly capitalized letters. Her notes mostly consisted of random bullet points with no sense of real direction. To anyone, they would just be weird ramblings- to Sorcha; they were the bones of her films. 

They [i]had[/i] been the bones of her films. 

Time had escaped her. The V.I.P. deck now seemed full of all sorts of mismatched people all looking for something. She looked at every one of them with critical eyes, separating those who looked comfortable enough to stand there and those who were itching to get away—the mention of speed dating only bringing the latter group more reason to flee. For Sorcha, speed dating was a walk in the park. She wasn't afraid of interacting with new people. In fact, she enjoyed it. Something about talking to strangers she might end up banging the next few days was exciting enough for her. 

[color=6E6277]"Don't know, slam dancing sounds fun. The more, the merrier, right?"[/color] Sorcha stood up from the lounge chair she had been sitting, notebook forgotten in her bag. She shot the woman with the "boner donor" shirt a wink before she downed the rest of her martini in a similar fashion she had with the champagne. 

Jesus was this week going to be something. Sorcha was looking forward to it. 
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