“Circular? What the fuck are you talking about?” He lowered his voice as if he didn’t want me to hear him. “That guy beat the other into a coma. There’s no way that guy’s waking up.”
“Eh, did you see what he did to the female? He probably deserved it.”
“Who was she?”
“Don’t know.”
“Everyone will know soon.”
I closed my eyes and leaned back in the seat, trying to clear my head of the fear tornadoing around me. I was powerless. All I could do was take this moment by moment until the universe revealed what the hell would happen to us.
When I arrived, they processed me. I’d only seen things like this in the movies—the fingerprinting and taking of my mugshot. One of the officers stood in awe and snapped the picture. “I love all your music.”
I didn’t say anything, not in the mood to talk about anything. My head still spiraled, trying to make sense of the craziness of the day. I felt that same sense of helplessness that I had at Jason’s funeral. That humbling feeling that no matter how much money I made or power I held, pain could touch me, tragedy would hit me, and fucked up things would happen to the people around me.
But this time, it was different. Where I’d been ready to hide in the mountains after Jason’s death, I didn’t have that same feeling. Right now, all I could think about was having Simone in my arms, taking care of her, holding her body, making sure that she was okay. In fact, the worst part about the officers handing me the dreary orange uniform was the realization that I wouldn’t see Simone tonight. I wouldn’t be able to touch her. I wouldn’t be able to tell her everything would be okay.
And it would be okay because it had to be. I would accept nothing less. This cell wouldn’t hold me back from her. No matter what and who tried to keep us apart, we would never stumble. We would never fail.
I undressed in a line of four other men. One smelled of garbage and then vomited on his feet. Officers scrambled to clean it up. Others stared at me, whispering to each other and wondering why they recognized me.
A huge uniformed man got in front of me. “Turn around and bend over.”
I swallowed and did as I was told, feeling degraded and defeated.
“I can’t believe I’m looking in Gio’s asshole. Wow. What a day?”
I stood and turned around. “I’m glad I could be of service to you.”
He shrugged. “Put on the uniform.”
I did, and they guided us to a cell. Dreary concrete passed us by. We moved further beyond two cells that had people in their regular clothes. My heart dropped, realizing I wouldn’t be in a holding cell, that they planned to keep me overnight.
Fuck. How am I going to find out if she’s okay?
The officer kept him and me further back from the others. “My girlfriend loves your music.”
“What?”
“She goes crazy for it. I bet she would give me head for a week if I could have you sign something for me.”
“Of course.”
His face brightened and then he winked at me. “You know? If you need anything, let me know. You’re a good guy. They say you’re a possible murderer. I don’t believe that. I could make your life comfortable.”
“Could you sneak me a phone?”
“Oh no, I’m not that bold, but if you wrote something I could get it to the person.”
“Okay. I want to try that. I’ll give you the number and who to call. They’ll pick it up and deliver it.”
“Sounds good. And I’ll see if I can find some things for you to sign. It sucks I don’t have one of her posters here now.”
“Whenever you get them, I’ll sign them. Whether I’m in here or not.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
We rounded the corner. Bars lined both of our sides. Two to three men hung out inside each cage. Some jumped up off their bunks and catcalled us. A few recognized my face.
“Is that fucking G-to-the-I-to-the-O?”
“Sing something for us?”
“What the fuck did you do, man?”
“Shit ain’t been the same since Jason. Who you kill, man?”
The officer opened my cell. “We’re going to have you in one by yourself. Sometimes they’re not good to celebrities. Other times they are. The warden figured, better safe than sorry.”
I nodded and stepped in. The door slung closed behind me. I couldn’t see anyone on my sides, just the men in the cage ahead of me. A toilet sat against the wall. A gray cot lay close on its right. I climbed on top, drowning in the darkness seeping along the bars and trapping me in.
I lay on the top of the cot and thought of her. The men made a racket for a while, screaming my name out and even singing some of my songs. After a good hour of not replying, they tired and gave up. Another hour passed, and silence mingled with further darkness and descended into my cell.