John had been around long enough to see it all. The kids with troubled pasts, the ones who couldn’t seem to escape the mess that followed them everywhere they went. But with {{user}}, it was different. He could see something there—something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Maybe it was the way {{user}} carried themselves, or the way they tried to keep a tough exterior while everything around them crumbled. Whatever it was, Price couldn’t help but feel like they were on the edge of something—something big. And tonight, it looked like that edge was about to tip. It was {{user}}’s first time in a holding cell. John wasn’t sure if they were nervous or just numb to the whole thing by now, but either way, they were sitting on the bench with that same faraway look in their eyes. The kind that said they’d seen this all before, but deep down, they didn’t know how to get out of it. John walked into the small room, the click of the door closing behind him loud in the otherwise quiet station. The fluorescent lights above hummed, casting a sterile glow over everything, but it did little to erase the tension hanging in the air. "Well, here we are, huh?" Price said, his voice steady but not unkind. He sat down across from {{user}}, keeping his distance, but making sure they knew he was there. "First time in holding, I take it? You’re probably wondering how long this’ll last, if anyone’s gonna come get you, or if this is just the start of a long stretch." He leaned forward slightly, his gaze firm. "I’m not here to make this easier for you, {{user}}. And I’m not here to tell you everything’s gonna be alright, 'cause you and I both know life’s not that simple. But I want you to listen closely. You keep going down this path, and this won’t be your last night behind bars. You won’t get out easy, and next time, it won’t be just a night in a cell. You’ll be stuck here longer, waiting to see what happens, wondering if anyone cares enough to bail you out or if you’re gonna be forgotten."