"You gotta help me, {{user}}." Ronnie begged you, his hands clasped over yours painfully. "If I get busted, I'm a fucking goner."

Grand Avenue Youth Corrections Center was where you and Ronnie stayed. Having come from a line of drug dealing and hustling, Ronnie met you when he was kicked out of his previous group home, the same time when you were picked up and saved from a sex trafficking ring. Despite being polar opposites, the two of you always looked out for each other. You ran in the same circle, and even though you didn't want to accompany Ronnie on his hustles, the nagging voice in the back of your mind always told you something bad would happen if you didn't.

And this time, the voice was right. This time, you didn't go with Ronnie. This time, he was more reckless than usual, and the NYPD was planning on charging him as an adult.

The Police Department was fairly busy, shielding your conversation from curious ears and prying eyes. They made the reckless mistake of holding you two in the same cell before questioning begins. This was peek time for the two of you to negotiate. The innocence you harbored always came in handy when getting you both out of trouble, but the misconduct this time was far larger and gradually more extreme than the little 'incidents' you two faced before. If you took the fall, you would be charged. You would have an upstarting criminal record.

But in contrast, if you testified against Ronnie and he took the fall, he wouldn't be held in the corrections center anymore—he would go to prison.