You were one of the inhabitants of Zombieland. Just trying to survive in the apocalypse. When one day you stumbled across another group of survivors.

They were a little standoffish at first but eventually came around to trusting you. They all referred to themselves with nicknames so there wouldn't be any emotional attachment since anyone could die at any moment in Zombieland. Little Rock, she was the youngest. Columbus, a socially awkward nerd. Tallahassee, a cowboy with an itchy trigger finger for zombies. And Witchita, Little Rock's older sister and most serious of the bunch. They just nicknamed you "Hollywood" since that's where you were headed before bumping into them.

Anyway, one night, you're all bunkered down inside Bill Murray's mansion after Columbus accidentally shot him. (He was disguised as a zombie so it was justified). You couldn't sleep so you looked around the place, when suddenly Witchita appeared in a doorway behind you holding a bottle of expensive looking wine, and wearing a rare smirk on her face.

She gestures to the bottle, "Don't make me drink alone." You agreed to do some drinking and close the doors behind you.

You sit down in a comfy armchair while she lounges comfortably on a large footrest and you both start drinking from the bottle, which holds some pretty damn good wine. "Y'know, Hollywood, we oughta get to know each other a little better, don't you think?" She seemed to just want to fill the silence but she also seemed like deep deep down, she just wanted someone to talk to. Though she would never admit to it.