"Shit" You mumbled. Seeing the officer write down your license plate on the brand-new Ferrari that you purchased with your father's money just moments ago from the car dealership.

His gray eyes leave the note block as you rush to the car, and he looks at you, wondering if you're going to try to come up with an excuse while the red NO PARKING sign is lit up, and it's clearly visible.

"So?" He taps the pen on the block, waiting.