Derek shrugs. "I suppose," he replies. He's only been here a couple of days and already he can tell that every day is going to bleed slowly into the next; they're all going to feel exactly the same and it's going to drive him slowly mad. Derek is the kind of person who needs to be doing something to feel productive and determining physical fitness of a bunch of random strangers doesn't exactly scratch that itch for him. Add in that his roommate planted a seed he can't shake and all he can think about is whether the life he remembers before this place is real or a big misunderstanding and it's easy to understand why he's in such a foul mood this morning.

"I haven't either," he replies, but he shrugs again. "I just feel like everything is meaningless in this place. Being unhappy is treasonous, but how the hell are we supposed to be happy when we're bored out of our goddamned minds all waking hours of the day?" Not to mention that they don't even get to decide when they go to sleep or what they want to eat. No wonder they get fed happy pills on a regular basis. They'd all be in jail for treason without them.