Delinquent - L.S.

Two

Louis had been dragged into the police station more times than he could count. He was detained and cuffed and threatened, but the police always lacked sufficient evidence to ever convict him. Some crimes he'd committed, others he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But his involvement never mattered; his go-to strategy was deny, deny, deny to whatever the police asked. When he was young and naive, he would confess and tell the truth and own up to his actions. That was when he still believed doing the right thing would get you farther in life.

That belief died when he was fourteen.

Louis had done a lot in his short life, most things being with good intentions. But no one ever believed what he had to say, everyone saw the worst in him no matter what. Louis started to see the worst in himself too. He was the big, bad, son of a dirty drug dealer and that's the only way anyone knew him. He was feared by some, hated by many, and no matter how hard he tried he knew he'd never change that. So, he used it to his advantage whenever he could. It proved to be a good little weapon in his arsenal, intimidation was very useful.

As a child, Louis' father was awful. He was abusive and manipulative and always managed to drag Louis into whatever illegal endeavor he was enlisting in. Besides, the man was too preoccupied with his heavy heroin addiction and his country wide drug empire to actually be a parent, so Louis was stuck bouncing between foster homes from a young age. He did make appearances while Louis was growing up, but only when he needed someone to settle his debts and do his dirty work.

Because of his rocky childhood and his frequent relocations in the foster care system, Louis was assigned a social worker. She was a nice enough woman who was one of the only people that genuinely seemed to care about Louis, even though she never did anything drastic enough to improve his circumstances. Louis was still living on the streets, still being hurt by his father and still getting involved in bad things.

He and Anne (his social worker) did make a pretty good team, though. But, no matter how good they were together, there was still one policeman in specific that just wouldn't give the pair a break.

Detective Cowell of the London Police was a man who worked closely with his social worker's cases, and he had come to despise Louis with his entire heart. There wasn't really a good reason for it either. From the first day he encountered Louis, he didn't believe a single word out of the lad's mouth. Cowell was always ready to pounce, to cuff Louis and ship him off to juvie, whether he had enough evidence or not.

Robbery in London? Automatic APB out for Louis. Missing person in Birmingham? It was most certainly Louis Tomlinson! Murder in a poor side of town? Stolen car? Smashed window? Graffiti? Runaway dog? Cat stuck in a tree? Flickering street light? Kid shit in a public pool? Everything was Louis' fault as long as Cowell had a say in it.

And today was another perfect example.

"I know that you were involved in that girl's death, Tomlinson! You've gotten away unscathed too many times! Murder isn't something I'm willing to just let go of," Cowell spat during another one of their meetings, slapping a hand onto the desk that separated them for emphasis.

Louis just rolled his eyes, not even bothering to hide his annoyance. "How many times do I have to tell you? I didn't kill her! I already told you everything. You know, the whole truth and nothing but the truth bullshit you're always begging for? You got it this time. Why the fuck am I even still a suspect?" Louis quickly fired back, crossing his arms over his chest.