Red Eyes and Tears (For Nolee)

John stumbled out of the car of his latest client, his ass hurting like a bitch. "Fuck, that's gonna hurt in the morning." He grumbled and counted his money before putting it back in his picked of his tight leather pants. It was freezing out, his thin trench coat barely keeping him warm on the dark, seedy streets of Manhattan where he worked as a prostitute. John didn't choose this life, but he had no where and no one to go to.

He tried his best to avoid the cops patrolling the area. John didn't do well in jail. He was always roughed up in the cell he stayed in for the night. He cursed, buying his lip when a cop car headed towards him.

Officer Nolee Lacroix, the sound of that sounded nicely to Nolee's ears. She had just graduated from the police acadamy and was now patrolling the streets of New York City. She was currently in her car, patrolling the streets. She saw a man get out of a car and by the way he was dressed, Nolee knew what he was. He was someone that she had to try and arrest. So far she was making her way up the ranks and she planned to keep it going.

Throwing on her lights, she parked the car, smiling at the man as she got out of the car. "Turn around and put your hands on the wall!" Nolee ordered.

John cursed, tears clouding his eyes in the dark. "Look, officer, c'mon. I wasn't doing anything. Please, just let me go." He pleaded. Though he knew what he just did. Though not proud of it, he knew. He looked around, wondering if he could run.

Something hit a chord in Nolee's heart. She had arrested people from thieves to drug dealers. But this? This young man was just doing what he had to do to survive. So she sighed, not taking out her handcuffs. "Look...get in the car and I'll get you some hot food. It's almost my break anyways."

John bit his lip. he'd learn not to trust people, especially cops. But something about this cop was different. "A-Alright." He said and cautiously got into the car in the passenger side, sinking down in the seat. He was freezing, underweight. His eyes were bloodshot. Red, and cheeks stained with tears thanks to his previous client who had roughed him up.

Nolee smiled and even though she wasn't cold, turned on the heater. "I have my change of clothes in the glove compartment if you wanna change. And I also have my lunch in there. You can go ahead and eat a bit before we get to the resteraunt."

John bit his lip and looked at the food. He was starving. Always was. He could barely afford his shitty apartment, let alone food. "Um... okay, I guess." He said, still weary of the cop as he ate the food. He didn't even taste it. He was just happy to have something in his stomach.

"I get sick of peanut butter and jelly sometimes but I don't cook so it's about the only thing I can fix for lunch," Nolee smiled, trying to start a conversation with the obviously afraid man.

John looked at her. "I really don't care what it is. I don't' eat everyday, so anything is good." He said quietly when he finished, looking down at his lap as he wrapped his arms around himself.

"Hey if you're cold take my jacket," Nolee smiled, gesturing to the jacket sitting next to her. "And you really should eat every day. It's not good for anyone to miss meals."

John gave the cop a look. "Miss, look at me. Do I look like I can afford to eat everyday?" He asked as he slipped on Nolee's warm jacket.

"Here," Nolee smiled, slipping a few dollars out of her pocket. "Take it. When you get hungry next, you can buy food."

John bit his lip but excepted the money. "Um... thank you." He said quietly. If he was killed by the end of the night, he'd be sure to make what money he had last.

"Don't sweat it. It's why I became a cop, to help people that is." Nolee shrugged as they turned into the parking lot of O'Shaunseys Bar and Grill.

John scoffed. "Most cops just lock people like me up. You have no idea what its like to spend the night in that jail cell." He said with a shiver.

"I've never been arrested," Nolee shrugged. "I've never so much gotten a warning. Some people like to call me a 'do gooder'."

"Well, people like to call me a whore. Because I am. And in jail, I whores get treated like what they are. Jail is worse than being on the streets." He said lowly.

"You've been to jail?" Nolee softly asked, parking the car and turning it off.

"A lot. They only keep prostitutes for the night and let us out the next morning. But it's the worse nights I've been through." John sighed quietly.

"I can't let you go through that. Who arrested you before?"

John thought back. "The last person to do it was, i think, Lawler." He said. "His name plate was Jerry Lawler. He practically threw me into the backseat." He huffed.

Nolee looked at him, "No, that...that didn't happen. He's a good, clean cop. He definitly wouldn't do something like that, okay?"

"Wait, he had a partner, Michael Cole. I got the names mixed up, sorry. This is how the night went, okay? I got out of a violent clients' truck. I was bleeding, ya know... down there. It was on my legs. I had bruises all over. Cole found me and dragged me out of the alley, threw me against the wall and tried to cuff me. Then, Lawler, I couldn't remember what he said but he was trying to get Cole to stop being so rough. Lawler tried to stop my bleeding. When I was fine, Cole made me take a test and they found out I was high, which I was. Secondhand, since my client was smoking. So Cole threw me in the backseat and arrested me for prostitution and drug usage. He and Lawler fought for a bit but nonetheless, I was taken to jail." John explained.

Nolee sighed, glad that her father wasn't the man that had done that to him. Cole on the other hand, she didn't doubt that. "Yeah, Micheal isn't exactly a nice man. Dad's the one who taught me everything I didn't learn at the academy. Like sometimes we don't arrest people because we have to accept what a hard life they have to live."

John shrugged. "Coulda saved me a lot of pain if every cop believed in what you did. But they don't/" He sighed. "And I can't blame them. I was high." He sighed. He couldn't count on his fingers how many times people have forced drugs into his body. John didn't want it. But in this life? This was the life of the choiceless.