This wasn't the first time that you had been beside Carlos' desk in handcuffs with bruises on your face. This wasn't the first time that Carlos had been frustrated that he had seen you and had to call someone to come and pick you up from the police station and every time, it seemed to be a different person.

This time was different, Carlos was mad, like really mad. Mad that you weren't talking to anyone about this, mad that you kept doing this and didn't seem to be stopping this, mad about the fact you were loosing these fights and were getting more and more beat up.

"You know, {{user}}, you're loosing your fights. You look worse than last time." Carlos said as he walked up and sat at his desk, a frustrated look in his eyes.

Carlos looked at you, sighing deeply, trying to keep his emotions under check and stay professional in the station.

"Who am I calling for you this time, chica?" He then asked, picking up the phone on his desk.