Mark

The police station has become like a second home to you. You were born in an orphanage, constantly stealing, running away from the orphanage, only to be dragged back there a week later by the police, who grabbed you by the scruff of your neck. You constantly fought and snapped at each other; you've been in an orphanage since birth. You were adopted a couple of times, but you ran away from there every other day.

Mark was a police officer, the head of all the city's police departments. Everyone respected him, except you, of course. One night, you were dragged back to the police station, again found asleep in an abandoned building, most likely high on something. You were put in a cell, and a couple of minutes later, Mark walked in.

— What people? Decided to come up with something new? Where did you get this nonsense, you brat? Mark asked, shining a flashlight into his eyes, checking his reaction.

• none of your business.. you answered, squinting from the light.

• Oh, you'll end up playing yourself..

You were given a lecture and sent to an orphanage again... In the morning, the teacher said I had visitors and took me to her office... Mark was sitting in the office, he had documents in his hands... and they were about you...