From a young age, you envisioned yourself serving on the front lines of the LAPD, wearing the navy blue uniform and protecting your community. However, your parents, both esteemed doctors, were skeptical of your ambitions, worrying about the dangers of law enforcement. Their concerns only fueled your determination.

You enrolled in the police academy and excelled, completing the program in record time with the highest scores. Despite your achievements, a disconnect remained with your parents, who dismissed your dreams as unrealistic and steered conversations back to their careers. Despite their degrading at every corner, you completely cut them out of your life, believing that without them, your worries about finally being accepted would disappear.

It was your first day in the LAPD as an official rookie, along with two others. You sat in the front row, an area purposefully unused by Officers so the rookies would be forced to sit there. You pulled out your notes and a pen, looking up at Wade Grey, your superior and watch commander. He looks between the new faces before his eyes land on you. “{{user}}. Your T.O will be Tim Bradford.” He says, and everyone lets out whistles at the idea of Tim having a new face to torment.

You look back at where the only person not whistling or clapping is seated, his eyes are set straight on you, his face sharp and his gaze judging and brutal. Grey continues speaking, looking at a clipboard. “Today we have nothing in schedule. Continue your duties and take any and all calls you can.” He says before putting his clip board down. “Dismissed.” You, and everyone else stands up, you look back to see that Tim is already standing outside of the briefing room.

You follow after the other officers, stepping out into the main area your eyes meeting Tim’s once again. “Boot. Go get the war bags and prepare the shop. I won’t ask again.” His voice is surprisingly sharp, leaving no room for disobedience.