Trapped with the Animals

across the pond

"what the hell are you doing here?" he asks me in shock. i could ask the same thing.

"i have no idea, where even are we?" i ask him.

"jail, i'm awaiting trial. i thought you moved back to the states?" he says, confused.

why am i in jail in london? i'm suppose to be in prison, let alone in america.

"i did, i have no idea why i'm here. why are you here?" i ask, backhanding the question.

"i may have gotten into a fight, but it's whatever, my lawyer says my sentence will only be six months, tops." he tells me.

i begin to tell him how i ended up in prison, starting from when i first moved from the uk.

"royale, your lawyer is here." a guard says entering the cell, holding out cuffs for me. thank god, maybe i can finally get some answers.

i sit down in an interrogation room, hands cuffed to a table, when a man in a suit comes over and sits down across from me.

"why am i here?" i ask him. he looks shocked that i don't know.

"for your dads murder trial? did nobody tell you?" he asks me, raising an eyebrow.

"murder trial? he died in a motorcycle accident." i say to him. he pulls out a laptop from a satchel, and pulls up a video.

it looks like my dad was being chased by somebody, and suddenly the car comes up on his right and slams him off the road.

i wince when i see my fathers body fly off the bike and into the tree line. i didn't even know there was video. honestly i wish i didn't see that.

"so you will go to court in a few days and the judge is going to ask you some question, and i need you to answer honestly. if you want any justice for your father, tell the judge everything you know about luke harlow." he explains to me.

luke harlow, the bass player for my dads band?

"what does he have to do with this. do the feds think he's the one driving the car?" i ask him.
~~~
"is everything okay dad?" i ask him, as he's sitting at the counter with a glass of whiskey. my dad is no alcoholic, but he drinks on occasion when he's stressed.

"everything's alright austin, just some band politics." he says being vague with his response. i pull out a chair and sit next to him, pouring myself a glass.

usually he would yell at me for drinking, but he ignores it. i can tell something is really bothering him.

"please tell me." i ask him, ive always been pretty nosey.

"luke has been..." he pauses taking a deep breath in.

"laundering money, using the bands profits as a way around the feds." he explains to me.

"i'm going to go to the police." he says to me. i've met this guy a few times, he's always been nice to me but he can be sketchy at time.

"be careful." i warn him.
~~~
"austin royale, will you please take the stand?" the judge says, and i walk to the podium.

"please state your full name and your relation to tom royale." the judge instructs me and i do so.

"what was your experience with how your father and mr. harlow's relationship?" the judge asks me.

"they were band mates," i begin saying. i notice luke staring at me in cuffs. an evil look in his eyes.

"they always seem to get along, but," i pause. i hate being a snitch, but i needed justice for my father.

"but what, mr royale?" the judge asks me.

"my father told me a day before he died," i pause again, taking a deep breath in. this all feels wrong, why can't they just let him rest.

"he told me luke was laundering money through the tour funds and venue costs." i say, watching luke's head hang in defeat.

"very well, thank you mr. royale." the judge says, and a cop leads me out of the courtroom.

"so that's it?" i ask when we arrive back at the jail. all that traveling for a twenty minute conversation.

"you will be returned to the states in a few weeks, we need to make sure the judge doesn't need you back for another statement." he says to me, putting me back into my cell.

"how did it go?" riley asks me.

"fine.." i tell him, and lay back on my bed.
~~~
"just meet me at the tesco parking lot in 30 minutes." wesley tell me over the phone. i hang up and take another puff of my cigarette.

it's been a week. a week without my dad. what i would have done to just tell him i love him one more time.

i'm suppose to move to the states with my mom in a few weeks. i'm terrified. she doesn't accept me. she doesn't know how to actually be a parent.

thirty minutes pass and i begin walking down to the marketplace. it's a cold november night, and the rain is slightly pouring.

i fucking hate wesley. so much. i don't have much of a choice though, i need my fix and he's the only guy i know that deals.

i see him sitting in his truck, his radio blaring. way to not make it suspicious mate.

i knock on the window of his car and he unlock it. i step up to the passenger seat and shut the door behind me.

"where's my money?" he asks. well hello to you too. his presence has always made me tense but this time it feels different.

i reach into my coat pocket and pull out the cash, handing it to him. he aggressively snatches it out of my hand and begins counting.

"you're 50 short." he says, looking me in the eye.

"what do you mean, it's always been £200." i say defensively.

"my prices went up," he says starting the engine of his car.

"get out." he instructs me. i begin to panic.

"wait no, please wesley i need this." i beg him, and he turns the engine off.

"fine, but you have to do me a favor."