Prison has become more of a home for Nicky Nichols than her actual home. Even though she has only been in prison for eighteen months, it feels much more homey than where she grew up. Her mother barely paid attention to her as a child – hiring nanny after nanny to care for her so she wouldn’t have to bother with her. With the neglection from her own mother, Nicky easily took to the wrong crowd and quickly became heavily addicted to taking drugs – most specifically heroin. And thanks to her heroin addiction, she landed herself in prison for four years (which is now only 2.5 years).

Lunch time hits causing the prisoners to fill the cafeteria, impatiently waiting in line for their food. Nicky sits at her usual table surrounded by the usual crowd of people – whom she considers mostly family. She takes a bite of food as she listens to the conversation that is going on around her and out of the corner of her eyes, she notices an unfamiliar woman. Piqued in interest, she keeps her eyes on the inmate – who chooses to sit at an empty table and timidly plays with the food on her tray.

As she gathers her own tray to go sit with the lonely new inmate, she ignores the strange stares her family is giving her. Nicky walks over to the other table, plopping herself down across from the other woman. ”Is today your first day here, kid? I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen ya before…and believe me I know everyone so I would know if you were here before,” she says, staring across at her as she takes in her features – short brown curls of hair, innocent brown eyes, and bright-red lipstick.

”First day, unfortunately,” the brown-haired inmate responds, a very heavy Brooklyn (possibly mixed with a tad of Boston) accent evident. Her eyes dart back down to her food, she continues to push it around with her fork – not exactly in the mood to eat. ”I’m Lorna—erm—Morello, I mean.”

Nicky smirks, finding her name to be very suitable. ”Lorna Morello, eh? Sounds Italian and hot,” she chuckles playfully, but deep down she means it – looking this woman’s body over, she longs to have her. ”I’m Nicky Nichols; my mother was very uncreative and practically named me after my own fucking last name. So, what’d ya do to get yourself locked up?” Intrigued to know what this petite inmate did would be a bit of an understatement. Nicky couldn’t picture her doing something horrible to land herself here.