Criminal (Jessie J) *ON HOLD*

Criminal (Jessie J)

Jessie's POV

"What's your name love?" The police officer asked me as he picked up his notepad. I knew exactly what to do, I had done it too many times already, never getting caught. I made a gesture to explain to the officer that I didn't speak English and he scoffed. "OK, any ID?" He tried to make hand gestures to me but I looked at him like he was mad. It was all part of my plan. "Hey, Dave, we have a passport." I looked behind me to see one of the other officers pick the small book out of one of the compartments of the stolen Ferrari. "Hmm, Jessica Cornish?" He passed the passport to the officer. He then shoved it in my face, my face from 2 years ago coming into view. "Well well well. This seems like a British passport..." He flicked through the pages as I mentally kicked myself for not being more careful. "What's the matter then? Cat got your tongue?" He slightly chuckled to himself. I stayed silent. "Look, Jessica, jokes up. If you speak now then maybe you won't get in too much trouble later. So you're 25?"

"Yeah." I blurt out while looking at the ground. This was part 2 of the plan: trying to make the police officer feel sorry for me. This was last resort so I had no idea if this worked. I didn't think it would though. One tear, two, three. Soon I was wiping them away with the sleeve of my leather jacket. A bit useless though. "I'm sorry, the car was my mates and I didn't know it was stolen, please don't arrest me." I was sobbing now. Of course it was all fake. "Funny, we never said anything about a stolen car." Shit.

Amelia's POV

"But all I'm saying is that I vaguely remember someone saying about a stolen car!" I was rudely interrupted from my lunch break by a strong Essex accent filling the room. Typical. I couldn't even get a rest here. Working as a prison guard you always have to be on the job. From 9 to 5. Or in my case 12 to 8, sometimes even longer. "Amelia we have another one here." I sighed and left my half-eaten sandwich to go and sort out the situation in the other room. I walked in to see a girl with bloodshot eyes and a leather jacket. Well that was what I first saw. She seemed angry, until she saw my face. Her anger replaced with a cheeky smirk. Her brunette hair was styled over to one side and slightly curled. I did admit she looked beautiful, but this was a criminal. No matter how much I wanted to get in her pants, I had to stay professional. "This one is yours." He shoved the handcuffed woman in my direction and walked out of the building.

Oh no.