No, its the cops

Izzy’s heart sank as distinctive black and white metal rounded the corner. She briefly considered running, but with the cop car already so near, there was no escape. Her shoulders slumped as the vehicle rolled right up to her, then stopped.

With a ker-chunk, the car doors opened, and two uniformed policewomen stepped out. The nearest one stepped right up to Izzy. Her shoulders slumped.

“Strange outfit for going on a walk.”

Izzy started to try and babble an excuse, but the policewoman raised a hand to cut her off. “Our dash cam could see the alleyway. Nice bit of climbing. How old are you, kid? Can I see an ID?”

“Umm… I don’t have it with me.” Izzy mumbled. She’d forgotten to bring a purse. “But I’m uhh, I’m twenty!” she lied.

“Riiiight,” said the policewoman. “Well, Ms. Twenty-Year-Old, how about this? You come with us back to the precinct, we ask you some quick questions, and then we can give you a ride home. You’re a student, right? Do you live in a dorm?”

Izzy nodded. The policewoman smirked. “Live in a dorm, but you’re twenty, huh?”

Shit. Izzy started to flounder for some explanation, but was cut off again by the policewoman saying, “Easier if you just tell the truth; trust me.”

Izzy folded in on herself, then mumbled, “Eighteen…”

“Thought as much. Well, come on then. I won’t formally arrest you if you come along nice and easy.”

Izzy gave a tiny nod, on the verge of tears, and stumbled into the back seat as the policewoman opened it.

There were four other people already in the holding cell when the policewoman (Officer Greta, as Izzy had learned her name to be on the ride over) put Izzy over its threshold, promising she’d only be in there for a moment. Izzy didn’t look at the others right away, too concerned with her own plight.

Izzy grimaced. She didn’t exactly have heaps of experience with police, but somehow she imagined that their idea of ‘just a moment’ might not match hers. Rubbing her arms—the AC was strong, and the cell was chilly—she trudged over to one of the benches and sat.

Finally, she looked up and assessed who else was in here. Two of them were a pair of femboys huddled closely together. She was pretty sure they’d been at the party too—she very vaguely recognized their slutty little outfits. They sat on the other end of the same bench as Izzy, and glanced at her momentarily when she sat.

Electing to sit on the floor in a corner was an older woman, visibly drunk and possibly homeless. She seemed to be half-asleep.

As for the fourth person in the cell…