Void // Billie Eilish

Twenty Seven

~
Alexis
~

"It's not mine."

I feel like I've said that at least 30 times since the security officers detained me about 15 minutes ago. It didn't work the first 29 times, and I know that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, but it's true, so I won't stop saying it.

"Oh, wow, we've never heard that one before," one of the officers monitoring me says sarcastically and I cross my arms with a frustrated huff.

"I don't even use coke! I'll piss in a cup for you to test right now," I say desperately.

The two officers share a look with each other before looking at me again, one piping up, "Possession is still a crime, even if you don't use it yourself. Especially while on federal property and attempting to cross state lines."

I groan and lean my elbows on the table in front of me while burying my face into my hands.

"What about fingerprints?" I ask after a moment and lift my head up again. "I can guarantee mine aren't on that shit."

"So you wore gloves," the shorter guy shrugs off my suggestion.

"But you might find someone else's fingerprint," I insist and he groans, as if the nightmare I'm experiencing right now is such an inconvenience to him.

"Look, kid, we're just here to watch ya until we get in contact with our superiors. We don't have access to some fancy DNA lab or some shit," he says and I frown again, on the verge of just letting out a scream of frustration that would probably make me look crazy.

"Fuck my life," I mutter and rest my head on the cold metal table while closing my eyes and imagining myself anywhere but here.

As it always does in times of crisis, my mind starts to drift to thoughts of Billie. I don't have to think back very far, in fact I think back to just a few hours ago when we were on stage together.

It was magical, and I'll be damned if some bullshit drug conviction for cocaine that isn't even mine gets in the way of us sharing more moments like that together.

I hear the door open but don't move from my position until I hear Chris' voice, and then I immediately lift my head up. He looks at me for a second and he looks concerned, but then his face hardens and he looks away. Shit, he's pissed at me.

"Chris lis-"

"Shut up," he cuts me off and looks between the two guys. "Let's cut to the chase; how much is it gonna cost to get her off?"

I raise my brows in surprise and I'm tempted to tell him not to do this but Chris is about as stubborn as I am, so I know it's no use.

"Are you trying to bribe federal officers?" one of them asks, and I have to bite back a laugh because he's basically a glamorized mall cop.

"Absolutely," Chris replies confidentially. "Listen, fellas, think about it like this: if you turn me down, you're going to keep her in custody for a few hours while twiddling your thumbs and doing boring paperwork before passing her off to your superiors, and they'll barely acknowledge your work and you won't get any compensation that you aren't getting already," he starts and I watch him curiously. "Or...you could let her go and go home richer; without having to lift a finger except to uncuff her and shred the paperwork you started filling out."