Tell Me I'm Different (Finished!)

((A/N: Hello all you readers! I decided to do a part two of this chapter. And boy did it come out long. 10 pages on word! *gasp* okay, so read it, enjoy it. Think about it. Haha bye! ))

Ace slammed his head against the metal table breaking the unbearable silence. The tall, lanky officer stood up, went over to Ace, grabbed the back of his head, and brought it close to his face.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he shouted in Ace’s ear.

A sudden rage built up in Ace. He stood up and punched the officer square in the jaw.

“I need to get out of here!” he shouted.

Ace ran to the door but was tackled by the officer.

“Get off me, you fuck!” Ace shouted angrily. He withered around on the floor under the surprising weight of the officer.

“You need to calm down now, before you get seriously hurt!”

The officer shouted back. He picked Ace up and threw him against the small metal chair. Ace could feel blood running from an open gash on his head down to his numb face. He tapped his foot restlessly against the blue tiled floor. He couldn’t stop moving. If he did, he felt like he would explode.

What is wrong with me? He thought.

But Ace already knew the answer, he needed that habit forming white drug. He was literally going  insane without it.

“Do you have anything to eat?” he asked practically shaking in the small, uncomfortable chair. He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and began pacing around the room.

The detective stood up and adjusted his green department store dress shirt. He rubbed one rough, dry hand against his red knuckles and stared at Ace suspiciously. His dark brown eyes sent shivers up Ace’s spine.

“Cocaine?” he asked knowingly.

Ace thought for a moment whether he should lie, but before he could say anything the detective interjected.

“Before you think of telling me some half assed lie for how you aren’t addicted, I’d like to let you in on a little secret. We know everything.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Ace asked, very irritated.

“All I want is some food,” he added angrily.

Well some coke wouldn’t hurt either.

 The detective rubbed his bald, dark brown head and looked at Ace like a father would look at his son.

“You know, we could help you if you say you are addicted. We could give you some prescription meds that would counteract with the symptoms that I know you’re feeling right now.”

Just as he finished the sentence a short, muscular man clad in the very same Versace suit his dad had barged through the metal door with a small purple laptop case in hand and a packet of papers in the other. Behind him was a mousy looking woman. She clutched onto her red plastic kit like she was sure someone was after it.

“Not another word, Ace. Detective, Doctor Janelle and I would like a moment alone with my client. Thank you.”

The detective shoved his hands in his black pants and angrily huffed out of the room.

“Magnus!” Ace shouted in delight. He had never been so happy to see his family’s lawyer in his life.

“Ace, you sure have gotten yourself in some shit. But it’s alright, my office and I will have all this sorted out and you’ll be able to join your father for dinner.”