you would tell yourself you were barely a bad criminal than others, saying you only shoplifted low-priced items like candies and such. yet the officer had sought to find out you had vandalized public spaces, part of a “club,” viewed illegal races & drank at a very young age.

yet you were always back at the same police station for the same reasons, getting interviewed and released repeatedly. every officer there irritated you besides this one specific cop.

you found out his name, his height and his age within a span of a day after meeting him for another meeting about your actions. the way his name rolled off your tongue was oddly satisfying, and he could say the same about you, too.

he sat infront of you, looking through papers as you were handcuffed before he spoke again, “Why don’t you tell me why you were watching another illegal racing competition this week on Tuesday?”