Wiggle
the best of the best, ya heard
Click. Vrooooom.
The damn air condition clicked on again, much to Finn's annoyance. It was too cold in here, and yet they still had the air conditioner running. Perhaps it was a interrogation tactic used by the detectives here, and if so, it was a damn dirty one. Finn reached behind his head and pulled his hood up over his head and stuck his chilled hands in the pockets of his chinos, hoping to warm them.
He felt like he'd been in here all day, nearly, and he hated sitting in one spot for far too long. He glanced up at the oversized clock that hung above the large reflective window. He knew they were in there waiting for him to crack and confess to something he didn't do. That or they were waiting for his lawyer, since he told them he wasn't speaking until his lawyer was here. Mr. Jameson, that was his lawyer's name, or so he was told. He'd never met the man, and was just informed that he was the only one who'd take his case. Apparently whoever was killed was fairly important in the community and it was professional suicide to defend Finn. It was strange to him, he'd never even thought of killing anyone before and he didn't think he'd have the guts to murder someone in cold blood. It would be pointless to do so, especially if it meant forfeiting his freedom and his musician career.
"Damn, where is he?" He asked.
Finn wanted to go home, and was quite exhausted, especially since the police busted down his door at 6am this morning, pulled him from his bed and slammed him on the ground, forcefully putting him in handcuffs while reciting his rights. They said he'd murdered someone last night, which was impossible since he'd went to sleep early. Finn sighed and placed his head on the wooden table, closed his eyes and awaited the arrival of his lawyer.
The damn air condition clicked on again, much to Finn's annoyance. It was too cold in here, and yet they still had the air conditioner running. Perhaps it was a interrogation tactic used by the detectives here, and if so, it was a damn dirty one. Finn reached behind his head and pulled his hood up over his head and stuck his chilled hands in the pockets of his chinos, hoping to warm them.
He felt like he'd been in here all day, nearly, and he hated sitting in one spot for far too long. He glanced up at the oversized clock that hung above the large reflective window. He knew they were in there waiting for him to crack and confess to something he didn't do. That or they were waiting for his lawyer, since he told them he wasn't speaking until his lawyer was here. Mr. Jameson, that was his lawyer's name, or so he was told. He'd never met the man, and was just informed that he was the only one who'd take his case. Apparently whoever was killed was fairly important in the community and it was professional suicide to defend Finn. It was strange to him, he'd never even thought of killing anyone before and he didn't think he'd have the guts to murder someone in cold blood. It would be pointless to do so, especially if it meant forfeiting his freedom and his musician career.
"Damn, where is he?" He asked.
Finn wanted to go home, and was quite exhausted, especially since the police busted down his door at 6am this morning, pulled him from his bed and slammed him on the ground, forcefully putting him in handcuffs while reciting his rights. They said he'd murdered someone last night, which was impossible since he'd went to sleep early. Finn sighed and placed his head on the wooden table, closed his eyes and awaited the arrival of his lawyer.
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