Any opinion, food, films, books, games, Sebastian had the opposing one. There was no common ground, and the four days felt a lot longer, more like four weeks of constantly hitting a brick wall, constantly being forced back, until Rory changed his opinion to coincide with Sebastian’s. Four days, and he was exhausted.

Outside the cell, Rory stayed close to Ollie and Captain. The three of them were their own group—one of many. Pauly had his group, and Sebastian had his, but it was clear Sebastian had control over the wing. Any argument or scuffle, the inmates looked to him for guidance. He was nothing sort of a Caesar looking down from the top walkway. He’d call out ‘enough’ or tell the inmates to ‘settle it in the gym’, which Rory found out meant boxing until someone forfeited and admitted defeat. The guards didn’t intervene—they allowed the controlled fights to go ahead.

****

Another scream woke Rory, and he sat upright, pressing his hand to his heart. Captain’s calls echoed, but nothing he said ever made sense. It was garbled, muffled, and it made it even more unnerving.

“Poor bastard.” Sebastian mumbled.

“I know.”

“You should convince him to see the doc.”

“He doesn’t want to, said he deserves to suffer.”

Sebastian laughed lightly. “Can’t he find a way to suffer in silence, you know, not take us all down with him? How long’s he in for?”

“Five years.”

Sebastian smacked his lips together. “Is that all? I wonder what he did.”

“No idea.”

“It’s funny, isn’t it…”

“What is?”

“No one asks what each other is in for. They ask about the time, the sentence, but never the crime, but we all find out anyway.”

“Maybe some people are ashamed, or they fear they’ll be targeted for their crimes.”

The bed shook, and Rory clutched on. He felt safer when Sebastian was below him, but when he stood naked in front of the bed, his heart started thumping.

“What did you do?”

“What?”

“There’s that word again.” Sebastian huffed. “Eight years, for what?”

“Drugs.”

“Drugs?”

“Smuggling, selling…”

“Using?”

Rory shook his head. “No, I didn’t use it. I knew what was in it.”

Sebastian laughed. “Yeah, I bet. You know what I’m in for, right?”

He leaned closer, and Rory shifted his head along the pillow to keep their distance.

“How would I know?”

Sebastian’s stare was so intense, Rory was sure he saw his blue eyes shimmer, the same way animals’ eyes shone in low light. Then he took a step back and laughed.

“I told you sixteen years, remember? Why don’t you guess…”

“Murder.” Rory whispered.

“Who’s a clever boy. Murder. Do you know how I did it?”

Rory shook his head. “No.”

Sebastian chuckled, then lifted his arm. “The good thing about hands … they’re always on hand.”