When you got arrested for assault when you fought a kid, you immediately exercised your right for a lawyer to be present. Your parents, rich as they were, got you one of the best. Pete Wentz. He owned his own law firm and everything.

Despite his skills, you were being difficult as fuck. Did you start the fight? No answer. What caused the fight? No answer. I just would not answer him. He was getting frustrated, a hand in his hair as he sat across from you and looked over your files.

"Look, they can easily put you in prison for this! If you don't tell me anything I can't make up a story and get you off."