<em>Ingrid with Aline and who the fuck ever, like she's paying attention…</em><br/><br/>She felt a bit ashamed that she was still brooding over that, it was time to move on.  Fuck Morgan. Fuck Daniel. Fuck everyone and anyone that didn't bother to talk to her. She tossed her ebony hair over her shoulder and nodded. "Thanks." A slight flush crowned her cheeks as she moved off, cup in hand. She remembered all too well why she'd started doing drugs and fuck was it ever tempting.  It just wouldn't solve her problems, but instead would make them worse.<br/><br/>"He's a crazy fucker, like anyone knows what he means."  Three steps, Mister? Three steps toward the door?  Three steps away from a straight jacket and blowing spit bubbles with crossed eyes and drool running down her chin, more like.<br/><br/>"Sounds like a plan," she said, her wardrobe light for now, as she wanted to see what space she had before doing much shopping.  If it was anything like she worried about, it would be a fucking debacle. "Can we cover him in honey?" she whispered back conspiratorially.<br/><br/>"You seen Anthony by chance?" she asked, trying to keep the edge of hope out of her voice.  She snorted as Andrew made his way on, snorting as he made his way out.<br/><br/>"So, Bastiaan… what've you been up to?"  Small talk attempt one.<br/>