He hardly even recognized his reflection in window as he waited. His face was stained red by his own sorrow, splotches still lingering on his pale skin, nose flaking red, lip swollen and his eyes bloodshot. Barely being able to see through the swollen skin that was his eyelids, he followed the rest of the new inmates into the car, pushing himself into a corner of the backseat as he gripped his pillow to his chest. He smoothed down his hair, held tight to his head and out of his face by a rubber band as the rough handed guard had advised him to do until he got settled in.

"Inmate!" he almost knocked his head into the glass as he whipped his head in the direction of the front seat, the same guard staring back at him. "You were asked a question." All eyes were trained on him, every inmate in the car staring at him and the one driving looking at him in the review mirror with a raised brow. "Y-Yes?" he stuttered out softly, eyes darting from one face to the next. "What's your name?" The driver asked, glancing up at him from the road. "Phillip." He choked out softly, his voice hoarse still. "Your last name, we go by last names here." He turned in his seat as the car stopped, a large metal gate blocking the way and another guard talking to theirs through the passenger window. "Oh, uhm, it's Pirrup." Pip clarified, his voice cracking as the gate before them began to open. "Pirrup, it's nice to meet you. I'm Marsh, if any of you need anything you can ask me, okay?" He turned, taking the van out of park and continuing up the hill.

As soon as the van pulled to a stop in front of a large building, the rest of the pack van bailing out quickly. Pip quickly followed close behind Marsh as they were lead into the large brick building that he would now be spending his sentence in, bright blue eyes darting around his new residence as he was lead through it until he was stopped in front of a yet another small and cold looking room. This was the fifth time he'd entered an office like this today, blaring lights and dead stares meeting him as he shuffled in slowly. "This is where you'll get your ID, I'll be waiting outside for when you're done." Marsh said, slipping back out the door with a smile.

The inmates all lined up in alphabetical order, Pip standing behind a boy named Malkinson as he waited for his turn by counting the number of shoe scuffs on the floor. "Pirrup!" A loud voice startled him, his head banging against the concrete behind him as he looked up suddenly. "Yes sir!" he cried suddenly, his voice cracking as he quickly shuffled to the spot in front of the web cam. "You sure you're supposed to be in this prison?" The guard asked with a chuckle, his nasal voice grating on Pip's ear drums. "You look like you should be in the woman's prison." He laughed loudly to himself, thumping the short blonde guard at his side in humor, who only smiled weakly. "A-All right, now just look at the camera and w-well get this taken care of real quick, alright?" the guard stuttered. "Thank you." Pip answered softly, earning a sharp look from the other guard. "Sir." He added, straitening his shoulders and clenching his jaw in an attempt to look more intimidating as the guard took his photo. An ID was quickly printed and pinned to his uniform, Pip reading the smaller and more pleasing guard's badge to remember his name, Scotch.

"Make sure to ask if we have tampons at commissary." The other guard called after him as he shuffled out the door, wincing at the implications and falling in line behind Marsh. "Ignore Cartman, he's an asshole. He should be serving time here instead of working here." Marsh commented to the other inmates before stopping in front of a set of doors. "These are the counselors; you'll want to go see them sometime later today to get your file in order." "Which one is better?" One of the other inmates spoke up from behind Pip. "Who have you got?" Marsh asked. "Mackey." He answered. Pip could hear him shuffle awkwardly behind him. "He's alright, kind of heavy on the anti-drug and anti-sex stuff, but he's alright." Relief left Pip in a puff of air, he was glad his counselor wasn't awful; it was the least he could hope for. "Alright, assigned dorms are that way; you don't go down there unless you are assigned. Your ass will be beat so hard you can forget sitting on it for a week." Marsh started talking again as they walked through the long, dull hallways. Pip didn't know how he was ever going to remember where everything was when it all looked the same.

"Donovan, Pirrup. This is you." Marsh said as they stopped in front of a room, the other boy who Pip assumed was Donovan walking quickly inside. Pip couldn't make his feet move, the lump in his throat weighing him down so he couldn't move. "It's going to be fine, first week is always the worst, just don't talk to anyone. Stay under the radar." Marsh said, pushing him towards the doorway and causing him to stumble in. "Oh look, another young one." Pip immediately turned and almost ran into a very large man standing in front of him. "What's your name angel face?" "He's going to get fucked up really fast." Pip had to take a step back before he could look at either of the two people talking. The man who he had almost met very personally via chest hair was standing in front of him with a hand on his hip and a brow raised in his direction. "Pirrup, my name is Pirrup." Pip answered, shuffling awkwardly before moving to the remaining empty bed.

"My names Slave, or at least it is now. That's Chef, he makes the meals around here." Slave gestured to the man who had spoken earlier, a large black man that was lounging on the bottom bunk eating chips. "How's it goin'?" the deep baritone asked, dusting crumbs from his chest. "It's…different." Pip said as he threw his things onto his bed, sitting awkwardly on the bottom bunk as he looked at the room around him. Donovan was swinging his legs from the top bunk, Slave had occupied himself leaning against the wall, and Chef had swung his legs to sit upright on his bed. It was quiet for a long time before anyone spoke up.

"Where are you from?" Donovan asked, leaning down until he was level with Pips face. "I'm from here?" he answered, brow knit together. "No like originally." "Kid, shut your mouth." Chef sighed loudly, standing up as the light flickered on above the door. "Stand by your bed, don't move or talk when they come in. When that light comes on you better be where you're supposed to." Slave said, leaning against the post of the bunk bed. Pip couldn't help but stiffen up as a guard entered. "Calm down angel face." Slave said. The other guard from the ID room, the rude one, entered the room and clicked again at each inmate, chuckling as he looked at Pip. "Figures they put all the fags together." He said as he left.

"If only he knew." Slave rolled his eyes, pushing off from the bunk. "What do you mean?" Donovan asked. "If he thinks I'm the only gay thing in this place he needs to get his head out of his ass and look the fuck around." Slave said as grabbed Pips blankets and started to make the bed. "Seriously?" Donovan asked, moving away from the bed and effectively out of Slave's way. "Honey, boys got to get out frustration some way, and a hand gets lonely." "You little ones best watch out, they look for newbies like you, especially you blondie." Chef said as he left the room. "What exactly does he mean by that?" Pip asked, eyes wide and worried as he looked at Slave for an explanation.

"Oh Jesus Christ, he just had to say that." Slave sighed as he followed Chef out of the room, calling out behind him. "Dinner is at 5:30!"