Diane.

Room 246

With Bianca in such an amenable mood, you ask for Diane's room number-- calmly-- and quietly-- so that you don't risk waking her up from whatever dream world it looks like she's in. Brandishing the shimmering ornament, you lead her over to the computer, where she looks up Diane's room number and reports, "Room 246."

"Okay, good, Bianca, good," you coo. "Now just stay right there and...if anyone asks, this never happened, okay?"
"What never happened?" she asks, as ditzy as can be.
"That's perfect, Bianca." You drop the necklace back into your pocket and head up the stairs to Room 246.

Knocking on the door marked 246, you can definately hear sounds from within, although there's no sign of anyone opening the door for you. Diane probably spotted your guilty mug through the peephole. You continuing knocking, pleading your case to Diane from the hallway.

"Please let me in, Diane, I'm really sorry. I want to make it up to you," you yell into the door. "C'mon, I brought you something."

A few more minutes of persistent knocking finally gets someone to crack open the door. It's not Diane, though. A tan brunette with pouty pink lips peeks her head out and addresses you.

"Hi. Diane's still upset. She doesn't want to talk to you now," she explains.

"I know, but I just need to talk to her for a few minutes," you counter, "and I have something to give to her." Peering through the crack in the door, you can just barely see Diane sitting at her desk, her back turned to you-- that is, before her bodyguard-roommate steps out and blocks your view. She leans toward you and whispers.

"Why don't you come back later? If you give me your number I'll call you when she's feeling better." She's probably just as eager to get rid of you as Diane. Hard to blame her, considering you've nearly knocked a crater into their door. "You can leave whatever you brought with me and I'll give it to her." That's not a bad idea.