Caitlyn's not entirely sure how she ended up here or why people keep shoving drinks into her hands. A couple of the drinks have smelled decent, but they all taste like fruit or the aftermath of a fire. Neither is to her taste. Nor is a room full of loud, excitable, drunken people. She's trying to extricate herself from the party when she feels someone grab her wrist.

"I. Um."

No. The answer is no.