Holding Cell

I could have sworn that they only place the same gender in a holding cell. Perhaps that's how they do it here, or maybe this is just convenient story telling. At any rate , we're stuck at a New York City holding cell ,bored out of our minds. We've been here a few days. Well, that's certainly what it feels like. There are no clocks or windows, so time is a very abstract concept. We're both exhausted, but sleeping in shifts isn't the best idea either. It's a room full of drugged out junkies who would jump at the chance of us off guard. There is also a middle aged biker. He is chubby and has a grey beard. He wears a leather vest with club patches. I don't look too closely. I don't want to know who he's affiliated with, nor do I need to know. "What day is it?" Olivia asks, wearily. "I don't know. Saturday maybe." "What did you say?" The biker shouts from across the room. It's been a few days since I've slept, so I don't know how to respond. "You talking shit?" He asks while stomping his way to us. "No, I wanted to know what day it was." Olivia replies, innocently. She is unaware of the current threat. "You wanted to know what day it was? I'll buy that, but what's with the costumes?" "It's a long story." I say. The biker folds his arms. "We're seekers of the unknown." Olivia jumps in. "Yeah? Some things should remain unknown. Stay out of my business." The biker gets in my face. "I don't know what you're talking about." "How do I know you're not lying? Why are you here?" "We robbed a museum." I explain. The biker laughs. "Yeah, right. You two?" Olivia lifts up her hand and fired a pink heart. It is faded because of her exhaustion, but it makes its way to his chest. The biker's expression changes slightly. "You guys are telling the truth, aren't you?" "Unfortunately, yes." I say. "Shit, now we have to work together." "No, our crime days are over." The biker leans in closer. "You're not listening to me. We have to work together."