After a long night out—one that had definitely gotten a little out of hand—you heard the sharp wail of sirens cutting through the air. They were getting closer. One of your friends had picked a fight with some guy on the street, and the rest of you were either trying to break it up or standing there, frozen in disbelief. Within seconds, two patrol cars pulled up, lights flashing, and officers began scattering the growing crowd.

You turned to check on your friend—only to feel a pair of hands grabbing you, twisting your arms behind your back as cold metal cuffs snapped around your wrists. Shocked and indignant, you tried to protest. You weren’t doing anything! Watching wasn’t a crime… was it?

Before you could speak again, the officer pushed you against the side of the patrol car, the cool surface pressing against your cheek. You turned your head, meeting her eyes. Tall. Blonde. Young—so young she could’ve just graduated from the academy.

Trying to sound stern and intimidating, she spoke in a low, measured tone:

Taylor:“Easy there, kitten. Or I’ll add resisting arrest to your charge for solicitation.”