its going too be a litle tense......

The cafeteria of Havenbrook Correctional Facility buzzed with subdued conversations, the clatter of trays providing a dissonant backdrop. Garrett Silver sat alone at one of the metal tables, his tray half-empty in front of him, his sharp yellow-blue eyes scanning the room. Solitude had become his defense—a shield against unnecessary attention. Yet, today, even that couldn’t shield him from what was coming.

The disruption came with a sudden, deliberate noise. Elliot Grayson slammed his tray down on Garrett’s table, a **** grin plastered on the half-white, half-Asian 20-year-old boy. Beside him stood Ryan and Cody, both of them broad-shouldered, with the kind of swagger that only came from feeling invincible in numbers.

“Enjoying your meal, Silver?” Elliot sneered as he sat down, the other two immediately flanking Garrett, boxing him in.

Garrett barely looked up. “What do you want, Elliot? Or are you here because your brown bitch of a Mistress told you to be?”

The words hit like a gunshot. A collective hush fell over the cafeteria as heads turned. Elliot’s face froze in an uneasy mix of shock and fear. His gaze flicked to the corner of the room where Moana Kahale, the Chief Correctional Officer, stood. Her massive frame exuded a quiet menace, her eyes locked on the scene as if daring him to hesitate.

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” Elliot spat, his voice trembling slightly. “You think you're better than us, huh? You’re nothing but a punk!”

Ryan and Cody grinned, leaning closer. Cody grabbed Garrett’s arm roughly. “Yeah, Silver. Big man, sitting all alone. You think you’re smarter than everyone else? You’re just another loser in this dump.”

Garrett yanked his arm free, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at each of them in turn. “At least I don’t fetch like a good little dog every time Kahale snaps her fingers.”

Elliot stiffened, his fists clenching. “That’s it!” he shouted, his voice rising in pitch. Before Garrett could react, Ryan and Cody shoved him back into his chair. Cody’s fist slammed into his stomach, and Garrett doubled over slightly, but he refused to cry out.

“Enough!” A sharp, commanding voice cut through the chaos. Latoya and Bree strode into the fray, their faces set in stern disapproval.

“What’s going on here?” Moana demanded, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the scene.

“He started it, Mistr—uh, Ma’am!” Elliot yelled, pointing at Garrett. “He came at us out of nowhere!”

Garrett opened his mouth to protest, but Latoya grabbed his arm and yanked him upright with a mocking laugh. “Save it, Silver. We’ve heard enough of your crap.

Moana sighed mockingly, a glint of satisfaction flickering in her eyes. She turned her attention to Latoya and Bree, her voice low but heavy with authority. “Take him to solitary,” she said, her tone calm yet dripping with intent. “Clearly, his behavior is causing problems, and we can’t have that disrupting the peace.”

Her lips curled into a faint, predatory smirk as her gaze flicked to Garrett. “Don’t worry, ladies. Once he’s there, I’ll personally make sure he learns how to behave… properly.”

Latoya and Bree exchanged knowing glances before moving toward Garrett, their steps deliberate. “Let’s go, Silver,” Latoya said coldly, grabbing his arm.

Bree followed suit, leaning in close as she hauled him to his feet. “You’re in for a real treat now, Cucky,” she sneered, her mocking laughter echoing in the cafeteria as they led him away.

___________________________________________________________________________

As Latoya and Bree led Garrett through the corridors, their grip on his arms was bruising, their taunts echoing in the sterile hallways.

“You really think you’re some kind of genius, don’t you, Cucky?” Bree sneered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “What’s your plan? You gonna charm your way out of here with those pretty-boy looks?”

Latoya laughed harshly. “Please, Bree. Pretty boys like Silver don’t last long in places like this. Give it a couple of weeks—he’ll be crying for us superior Black women to protect his little white ass.”

Garrett kept his jaw tight, refusing to rise to the bait, but Latoya wasn’t finished. She slowed her pace slightly, her eyes scanning him with obvious disdain before her hand darted down and grabbed him roughly by the crotch.

“What’s this?” she sneered, her tone mocking. Her expression shifted for a split second, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. “Huh. Bigger than I’d have guessed for someone like you.”

Garrett smirked, his eyes glinting with defiance. “Jealous?”

The grin vanished from Latoya’s face. She slapped him hard across the cheek, the sound echoing through the hallway. “Keep your mouth shut, Silver,” she said coldly, her eyes narrowing. “You’re not in charge here. Get that through your thick skull.”

Bree chuckled as they dragged him forward again. “Bet he thought he was tough, Latoya. Now look at him. Just another little punk who doesn’t know his place.”

As they approached the solitary cell, Latoya leaned in close, her voice a low, mocking whisper. “Have fun in there, Silver. You’ll be begging to come out by the time we’re done with you.”

The two women laughed as they shoved him through the door, slamming it shut behind him.

__________________________________________________________

The solitary cell was dark and cold, the walls almost seeming to absorb the faint light from the small window near the ceiling. Garrett was shoved inside, stumbling slightly, but before the door could shut, Moana entered behind him.

She closed the door with a deliberate, echoing click, her massive frame casting a long shadow across the room. Latoya and Bree waited just outside, leaving her alone with Garrett.

Moana’s presence filled the space like a storm cloud, her broad shoulders squared, her arms folded across her chest. Slowly, she pulled on a pair of gloves, the snap of latex cutting through the silence.

“Sweetcheeks,” she began, her deep voice calm but laced with venom. “You think you’re something special, don’t you? Walking around here like you’re untouchable.”

Garrett straightened, his icy glare meeting hers. “What do you want, Kahale? Another puppet show? Or are you here to bark orders yourself?”

A slow, predatory smile spread across her face. She stepped closer, looming over him. “Oh, I don’t bark, Silver. I break.” Her tone dropped, almost to a whisper. “And breaking little white boys like you? That’s my favorite part of this job.”

Garrett’s jaw clenched, but he stayed silent, his mind racing.

Moana tilted her head slightly, studying him like a predator studies its prey. “You act tough now, but we both know how this ends. You’ll break, Sweetcheeks. They all do. And soon, you’ll start looking forward to these little sessions.”

She stepped forward again, closing the distance between them. “But first, we’re going to make sure you’ve got nothing dangerous on you. You know, for safety.”

Her hands gripped his shoulders and pushed him against the wall with unsettling ease. Then, methodically, she began her so-called "intensive search." Every touch was deliberate, invasive, and designed to humiliate. Her gloved hands ran over his arms, down his torso, and lower still, lingering just long enough to make her intentions clear.

“You’re tense,” she murmured mockingly, leaning close enough that her breath brushed against his ear. “That’ll fade. After a while, you’ll realize there’s no point fighting. You’ll give in, and maybe… just maybe, you’ll even beg for it.”

Garrett stayed silent, his muscles rigid, his teeth grinding together. Every word she spoke fueled the fire burning in his chest, but he refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

Moana chuckled softly, stepping back at last. “You’ll see, Sweetcheeks. They always do,” she said, her tone dripping with smug satisfaction.

When she finally stepped away, her eyes lingered on him one last time. “Enjoy your stay in solitary. I’ll be back to check on you… soon.”

She turned and left, the sound of her boots echoing against the concrete as the heavy door slammed shut behind her, sealing Garrett in the suffocating darkness.

_________________________________________________________________

The silence of the cell pressed in on Garrett like a physical weight. He sat on the cold metal cot, his breathing slow and steady, his mind racing. Every word Moana had spoken echoed in his head, every humiliating touch fueling the storm inside him.

But this time, solitude wasn’t a punishment. It was an opportunity. They had given him the one thing he needed most: time. Time to think. Time to plan.

Garrett’s thoughts turned to the AudioTuring device, its soft hum, its intricate mechanisms. He’d already used it to start twisting Miranda Wong’s mind, but there was more to uncover, more power to wield.

“Thank you, Kahale,” he muttered into the darkness, a faint smirk curling his lips. “For the quiet. For the time to think.”

He leaned back against the wall, his mind sharpening like a blade. “You’re wrong, Sweetcheeks,” he whispered. “I don’t break. I adapt. And soon, you’ll see who’s really in control.”