Black out days by Phantogram

Black out days, I don't recognise you anymore.

3 years ago.

Grayson Hawthorne. 

I remove the cigarette from my mouth and blow the air down so it avoids Tiger's face. "So are we doing this or not?" I ask cockily. 

"Christ, Baby Face, give us a minute. The adults are talking." Yoda tells me. I earned that nickname because of my youth, being fifteen when joining the gang I had very soft features and looked innocent enough. Only 6 months later the nickname is yet to grow on my now 16 year old self.

"I'm not a kid. Give me the shit." I order. T-Rex rolls his eyes and hands me the suitcase filled with Illicit drugs. I march down the alleyway we are supposed to meet down and wait. When I arrive at the end of the dark pathway I am met with a tall silhouette.

"You got it?" He asks. "No, this is just a suitcase for all the makeup I keep on hand. Of course it is." I scoff. 

"Guys. We've got him." He yells down the alley and suddenly I see silhouettes lining the alley and running towards us, flashing blue and red lights illuminate the silhouettes and reveal around 5 cops charging for me. 

"Shit." Is all I say before being brutally tackled to the ground. My face is grazed painfully across the rough ground as they flip me onto my stomach and put handcuffs on my wrists. I feel some blood falling down my cheek slowly at the brutality of their attack. 

One of the guys kneels on my back, feeling as if his force is constricting my breathing. I try to wriggle out but I stop dead in my place when the icy cold muzzle of a gun presses itself onto the back of my head.

I blink rapidly so the instinctive tears threatening my eyes disappear. I've never been caught before, not doing something this bad anyway. 

Sure I've been caught graffitiing or smoking in bathrooms but nothing I haven't been able to run from until now. 

The police car backs into the alleyway until it is right by me. I'm pulled to my feet by two officers and thrown in the back of a cop car. I see some guys wearing gloves and picking up the suitcase. 

"It's not mine, the guy you're working with framed me." I try to lie but I'm given silence in return. "Tell it to the court big boy." One cop laughs mockingly.

Fuck. My Mother will find out. And Xander. How do I explain to my 14 year old brother I've been arrested? There goes the old man's inheritance.

I'm driven in silence back to the police station. I am rewarded the pleasure of one phone call just like the movies.

I choose to use my call for the old man. Each ring makes my heart race faster. If he doesn't answer I am fucked. 

After 7 rings, he picks up. "Grandad?" I whisper slightly, not meaning to sound so desperate. "Grayson?" He asks sceptically. 

"I'm in trouble. I did something bad." I tell him. "What have you done?" He spits, clearly lowering his voice. I'm guessing they're eating breakfast by this now early time. "I'm at the station." I tell him. The line goes out. He hung up.

I am pulled away from the phone and I am thrown into a small room and freed of my handcuffs. 

I wait sitting on the small table, my leg bouncing agitatedly. 

Two police officers enter, one holding a clip board, the other wearing gloves. "Name?" The one with the clipboard asks. "Robert Wilson." I say the first name that comes to mind. 

The lady with the clipboard starts writing. "His name is Grayson Hawthorne." The guy interrupts. 

"Honesty will get this over with quicker, if you tell the truth you're in less trouble." The lady tells me.

"Okay, how old are you?" She asks, "Sixteen." I answer, trying to refrain from shaking in fear. 

"Good. Now do you have any lawyers or attorneys who can represent you in court?" 

I let go of a shaky breathe, court. 

"Alisa Ortega from McNamara, Ortega, and Jones." I answer. She takes down some notes and then looks back up at me. 

"Are you currently taking any proscription medication?" She asks, I shake my head. "Are you addicted to any drugs?" 

I have to think about that for a moment, i mean technically no but arguably yes. "No." I answer, still not convincing myself. 

"Now Grayson. Are you currently in possession of any drugs or weapons?" She asks carefully. "No." I say, my voice breaking slightly. 

"Are you sure? If we find something on you-" she starts. "You won't." I confirm, my voice coming out stronger and more sure now. 

"Okay. That's all we need to know at this point in time." She tells me. I nod, convincing myself everything will be fine.

"Personal objects here." She extends an arm with a tray in it. I place my watch in there, my cell phone, my wallet, my keys, a small pocket knife and my lighter.

"That doesn't look very safe." She says sceptically. "Relax, it's for my cigarettes. And the knife is just for practicality." I explains. She nods unconvinced and places the tray down.

"Okay Grayson, you can strip now." She tells me, I watch as the male cop in the gloves gets a flashlight out. 

"Strip?" I ask confused. "We need to search you. It's nothing to be afraid of unless you lied to us." She tells me.

"Is it a group effort or are you just hear cause you getta kick outta watchin?" 

I see her clench her jaw annoyed. "No. It's just procedure. There legally has to be another witness present." She explains.

"Why? In case he bends me over whilst searching and fucks me up the ass?" I ask. She doesn't answer. 

"Strip." She reinstates. 

So I take all my clothes off, it is quickly retrieved by the lady and placed into a plastic bag. 

"Open your eyes." The man orders. "They weren't shut." I reply snarking. He shines the light directly into my eyes.

"Are you currently high Grayson?" She asks. "Maybe a little bit.." I reply innocently. By 'a little bit' I mean I am stoned out my fucking mind. She writes something down.

"Pull up the top of your lip." So I fold my top lip up with my fingers the torch shines on it. "Bottom." And I do the same for my bottom lip.

"Lift your tongue." I lift my tongue to the roof of my mouth to show them nothing lies beneath my tongue. 

"Lift your arms." 

I lift my arms to the sky lazily as they search everywhere over my body for hidden drugs.

"Turn around."

So I face the wall instead as they search me up and down. "Bend over." 

My eyes widen with surprise, "So that's why he's not allowed to be alone with me." I joke. 

Nevertheless I bend over as he shines the flashlight to my ass. 

"Okay Grayson, thank you for telling the truth. You can get changed now." She says, handing me a prison like uniform that I know to be a holding uniform, the thing criminals must wear until they are taken into jail. It is just like the prison jumpsuit but in a blue colour.

Once dressed, I am escorted into a holding cell. The small room is very basic, a bed, a sink, a toilet and a small table.

I lay on the bed for what must have been a couple hours. I don't dare close my eyes.

When I finally hear footsteps outside my cell I look up lazily. When I see all my brothers and my Grandfather, I stand up.

"Let my Grandson out of this cell instantly. He would never traffic drugs for christ sake!" My Grandfather yells at the guard.

The guard opens the cell and lets me out. My hand cuffs are once again removed and I'm handed back my previous clothes. I go into a small room and change, when I return I find my Grandfather yelling at more prison guards.

He grabs my wrist and walks me outside, my brother trailing behind. Once we are out of sight of any officers, he lifts his cane and slaps it down across my face leaving a burning sensation along with a bright red mark. 

"How dare you! You're a disgrace to this family name. Do you have any idea how much money it took me to get you out of this?" He yells in a hushed tone. 

He begins walking towards the SUV leaving my brothers and I alone. "So it's true?" Xander asks saddened. I don't meet his eyes. 

"Talk to us. What's going on with you?" Jameson asks worriedly. Jameson isn't one who typically gets worried, especially about me.

"Nothing. I'm fine." I mutter. I look to the ground, I can't look at them right now. 

"Gray.." Jameson sighs as if it makes him sick with sadness seeing me. "I don't know what you want me to tell you." I keep my voice strong and steady. 

"We want you to tell us what's going on. Is someone putting you up to this? Are you being threatened?" Nash asks concerned.

"I'm not being put up to anything." I yell. "Then what earth shaking event in your life right now is causing this mid life crisis bullshit." Jameson yells back.

"God would you just shut up. I'm not any different from how I was before I started doing drugs, i'm not a new version of myself or anything." I shout. 

"Grayson we just want to help you not change you." Xander frowns.

I clench my jaw. "Well I don't need your fuckin' help." I spit. Now walking away from them and making my way to the car.

(a/n. I don't know how i feel about this plot line, I wanted to give Grayson more of a deepened backstory but I'm not sure if it's too out of character. In other news, fill out this forms with questions about Riches:

https://forms.office.com/r/wJUzHLFWLs

Thanks)