Hostage to you

21 mugshot

Raven's pov:

The cold, sterile air of the holding room stung Raven's skin as she stood in front of the camera. The officer behind it barked instructions, his tone flat and emotionless.

"Stand still. Look forward. No smiling."

Smiling was the last thing on her mind. Her wrists ached from the cuffs, and her shoulders felt like they were made of stone. She fixed her gaze on the lens, willing herself to keep it together as the bright flash blinded her for a moment.

"Turn to your left," the officer instructed.

She turned slowly, her profile facing the camera. The second flash was just as jarring. When it was done, the officer nodded and motioned her toward the door.

"Processing next," he said flatly.

"Sounds thrilling," Raven muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

The officer didn't respond, leading her down a sterile, echoing hallway. As they passed rows of cells, murmurs and whispers floated out, mingling with the occasional shout. One man pressed his face to the bars, his grin crooked and sleazy.

"Hey, sweetheart! What're you in for?"

"Move along," the officer snapped, glaring at the man. Raven's stomach churned, but she kept her head high and her stride steady.

They stopped at a processing desk where a female officer sat with a clipboard in one hand and a bored expression on her face. She motioned to a plastic chair, and Raven dropped into it, folding her arms over her chest.

"Name?" the officer asked, her pen hovering over the form.

"Raven Steele."

"Date of birth?"

"October 9, 1999."

The officer scribbled on the form. "Height?"

"Five-eight."

"Weight?"

"One-forty," Raven replied, glancing at the wall like she was already over this interrogation.

"Address?"

Raven rattled off her apartment address, her tone clipped. The officer jotted it down without looking up.

"Emergency contact?" the officer asked.

"Billie Eilish," Raven answered without hesitation.

The officer paused, her head tilting slightly as her eyes flicked up to meet Raven's. "Billie Eilish? As in... the Billie Eilish?"

"Yes," Raven said firmly.

The officer raised an eyebrow. "And who is she to you?"

"She's my girlfriend," Raven replied, her tone sharper than she intended.

The officer blinked, her pen hovering over the paper. "Your girlfriend?"

"Yes," Raven said again, crossing her arms.

The officer frowned slightly. "And does Miss Eilish know you're listing her as your emergency contact?"

Raven's jaw tightened. "Yes. Can we move on?"

"Phone number?" the officer pressed, clearly still skeptical.

Raven rattled off the number, keeping her voice steady: "+1 (310) 807-3956."

The officer hesitated, then scribbled it down. "And just to confirm, this is the same Billie Eilish who's... globally famous?"

"That's the one," Raven said, her patience wearing thin.