From solidary confinement to gen pop, your world went from zero to one hundred in a matter of fucking hours. And honestly? It's been so goddamn chaotic since the moment the COs dropped you off at the medium security cells without much ceremony, but it's fucking busy and chaotic, and other women were traveling in and out of other people's cells without so much as an eye being batted, and quite frankly? It's weird.

But you needed to find some protection before these women sniff out some sort of weakness in you, so you end up wandering to the end of the hallway, right next to your empty cell.

The door was wide open, and inside, you find the infamous redhead lounging lazily on her bed, her nose buried deeply in a book. Without looking up, the cold slash of her gentle voice felt like a bucket of ice water dumped all over you.

"Whatever you want, I'm out of stock. If you need sex, find Luke. If you need a cuddle, find Sam. If you need an idiot, find Lou. If you need anything else, find Frey," Phoebe drawled nonchalantly, her slender fingertips flipping to the next page gracefully, "Otherwise? You have three seconds to get the fuck out of my cell."