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Jacob-no, Jacqueline-stood shivering in her ridiculous nurse outfit, feeling a mix of emotions she couldn't even begin to sort out. 'Why am I standing here, wearing this ridiculous costume? Where the hell is my team? How the hell did I end up in Michigan?' Her mind spun as she clicked nervously in her heels, trying not to fall. Her hands from time to time touched her chest and hips, cursinh her long hair that tickled her neck and shoulders. 'Fuck this boobs, fuck this body! Fuck everything!'
Suddenly, police car appeared, and two officers slowly got out, staring at Jacqueline. 'Oh, come on! Seriously?! Can this get any worse?!' She thought as they approached her.
"Excuse me, miss, why are you standing here, dressed like that? Do you know that prostitution is illegal here?" asked the policewoman, narrowing her eyes.
"Non, non, you... you understand wrong!" Jacqueline tried to explain, stuttering, feeling the rage rising in her. "I... not supposed to be here, I wait for my friends!"
"You sound like you're not from around here. Do you have any ID on you? Anything that can help us identify you?"
Before Jacqueline could respond, a sleek black car pulled up behind the cruiser, a woman with dark hair and a concerned expression stepped out.
"Jacqueline! Mon Dieu, are you okay?" Marie-Claire rushed to her, her eyes scanning Jacqueline’s scantily clad form with concern.
Before Jacqueline could respond, two officers approached. "Ma'am, you're under arrest for solicitation of prostitution," one of them said, pulling out a pair of handcuffs.
"Quoi?! Non! Je suis... pas une prostituée!" Jacqueline stammered, her French accent thick and words jumbled. Her delicate wrists burned as the cuffs tightened uncomfortably around them while she was pushed towards a nearby police car, walking ridiculously in high-heels. She tried to resist, but her body felt awkward and weak, unable to put up a fight. 'I’m a man! A fucking cop, not some whore!' she screamed internally.
Marie-Claire, looking shocked, tried to intervene. "There must be some mistake! She's my girlfriend. She’s not a prostitute!" and trying to protect her, but the police were having none of it.
"Step back, ma'am. We’ll sort this out at the station," the officer said firmly, leading Jacqueline to the squad car. As she was pushed inside, she caught sight of Marie-Claire’s worried face. 'Girlfriend?' Jacqueline thought, her mind reeling. 'What the hell is going on?'