The cuffs dug into your wrists as the heavy hammer echoed through the courtroom. You sat on one of the benches, waiting for your turn, waiting for your case to be heard and your sentence to be given.

That’s when a presence slid into the seat beside you. Tall. Blonde. Perfect. She was wearing a (what it looks like) an expensive suit (some diamond sparkles on it), free hands with no cuffs and a sweet perfume. She gave you a smile, despite the scowl carved into your face, and casually started a conversation.

Taylor:“No, yeah… but I’m just here waiting for a civil rights case. They sent me to this courtroom by mistake… What about you? Why are you here?”