Can't Believe That I Survived

*Jane POV*

Carol looks at her computer screen, taps a couple of keys, then gives me a sympathetic look. 

"No need to be nervous, dear. He's perfectly stable. Sometimes I wonder what even got him in here!" she chuckles. I can't help but smile at her friendliness. That's relieving. Imagine if he attacked me?

"Security will be here soon to escort you in, just take a seat for now." 
Her smile is contagious. I'm feeling so much better about all of this already. I've never interviewed a prisoner before. 

I ignore the magazines lying in front of me and just stare at the little barred door beside the desk, expecting someone to come rushing through any second now. 

While I wait, my mind wanders through many scenarios involving axe murders and rapists. Shut up, shut up. Sometimes wish I didn't have such an active imagination. I'll have an anxiety attack at the rate I'm going. 

A sudden beep and a snap of a door opening awakens me from my horror stories, but increases my heart beat at the same time. This isn't helping my condition... 

I squeeze my eyes, toes, fingers knees and lips together tightly. 

"Ms. Way?" A deep voice booms from across the room. This is it. Holy shiiiiii...

"Yes...?" I open my eyes, every muscle in my body still tense.

"Mr. Radke is ready to see you now. I'll show you to the interrogation room." 

I don't say anything. I can't say anything. So I just pick up my purse, stand up and walk towards that little barred door. I make sure to thank Carol on my way out. Or in? I feel like a prisoner.

My breathing quickens until I almost lose control of it completely, but I try to calm myself the best I can. Just breathe in... Then out...

After a short walk through a narrow hallway with many little offices on either side, the guard stops at a door. 

"Here we are. We'll be in the room right next door monitoring everything from the one-way glass. If anything gets out of hand, which I'm sure you'll be fine, just give us a sign. He's handcuffed, so nothing too serious will happen, if anything." he motions to the door. 

"Go right ahead."
I nod a thank you, too stunned at his words to say something. My fingernails are still dug into my sweating palms as I reach one hand out to grasp the door handle, and rotate it.

Why am I so nervous? I feel like An right now. Imagine if An was here! She'd be pissing herself to the max.

I take in a final deep breath, and step into the sound-proof room. Be professional. We're not here to talk about An, we're going to talk about Ronnie. It's an interview... Does that mean mine and Jack's whole plan has fallen through the roof? No, I need to mention it somewhere for this to work.

His once shoulder-length hair has been shaven and his head is hanging. His cuffed hands are in his lap and his thumbs twiddle as he stares down at them sadly.

This isn't the loud, arrogant Ronnie we all used to know. 

"Hi, Ronnie." I begin. I have no idea where to start. I hang awkwardly around the door, not thinking to sit. 

He looks up slowly. His red-brown eyes look deep into mine and he has a small pout on his lips. He nods. "Sit down..." he stares at the chair on the opposite side of the table.

I hesitate, but sit anyway.
"My name is Jane Way, and I have some questions for you, if you don't mind answering them?" I take my notepad and pen out of my purse and place them on the table, overlooking my questions on the page.

He shakes his head and looks down at his fingers once again. 
I decide to start with the simplest.

"How are you?" I don't want to sound too nosy, he might get mad and do something stupid...

"I'm doin' okay. Not too bad," he nods. "It's not as bad as I expected. It's still bad, though. But I'm okay." he looks straight at me and I spot a glimpse of hope in his eyes. 

"My fans are what keeps me going, though. They're great..." he blinks as his sentence trails off.

That's it. I'm telling him now. But I have to tell him with a question... Somehow...

"Does one fan in particular stick out as a kind of... Motivation? To stay strong?" I question him cunningly. 

"Mm, yeah, but they're all equally motivational. Just some of their stories are comparable to mine... My mother left when I was about a year old... Six months... and the letters I read... They're so relatable... It's crazy. So many people have gone through so much of the same shit." 
Damn, it didn't work. I'll have to get a little deeper... I nod anyway and write down his words.

"What was your first letter like?" This should get to him. I know An's was his first one.

"Oh. That's my favorite one, actually." he nods and smiles. "It was amazing to read someone's story that was so... Painful, to her...I was honored to be the one to know... What she'd been through... That was the one that made me think so much about my own life."

I decide to leave it at that. If I want him to know, I'll just tell him...Not now.

"How is the withdrawal and counseling going? I understand it must be pretty hard, dealing with all this emotional shit as well as physical pain." 

"You have no idea. Seriously, one day I'll think my life is perfect and the next I'll be destroying whatever and whoever I can reach. It's retarded. Sometimes I lay in my bed for as long as I'm allowed and just cry..." he looks over his shoulder at the wall behind him, for no apparent reason.  

I furrow my eyebrows together, suddenly feeling so bad for this guy.

Why do they treat innocent people this way? Well, he's obviously not innocent, he's pretty brutal, but he was sticking up for his best friend! That shows just how loyal he is. He risked his freedom for his friend, although I don't think he intended it to go that far. I just gained some mad respect for this supposed criminal.

"You've been in here at least four months now, so you have had a bit of time to think about your past and future...What really happened in the desert?"

He sighs. "Some guys were hassling Max online... I stepped in, and we arranged to meet up and settle it... We had about seven of us, and they had around ten. So we went to this guy's place and faught. Some guy on their side bought a gun, and one of our guys got it off them somehow. The gun was fired and two of their friends were shot... The charges were all pressed against me." 

My phone suddenly buzzes. Dammit, I forgot to turn it off.

"I'm so sorry. Excuse me..." I flip it out of my back pocket.

Sender: An Elislee Received: 1:12pm

How's everything going?

I ignore the text, hoping she'll get that I'm doing an interview and can't be disturbed. 
She still doesn't know I'm interviewing Ronnie, and I don't plan to tell her until after her surprise birthday in a few days. 

"Are you still in Escape the Fate?" I carry on. I feel sad, and almost heartbroken. It's weird. 

"I... Don't think so. They kicked me out after what happened, then offered me a place back in... Then I'm told they've replaced me? I don't know. My life's too complicated at the moment." He rubs his chained hands over his face and leans back in his chair. 
"I'm sorry if I'm a little drowsy. I just have so much going on in my head right now." 

"That's fine. When are you expecting to be free?"

"I'm not expecting anything. I have days put on for every day I don't work, and I can't work at the moment, because of my withdrawal. So nothing's certain... My set time is 2 years... Maybe this time then? Who knows." He shrugs his shoulders and pouts. 

As the interview went by, he talked a lot about his emotions towards certain people, what he does in prison, his childhood, and the commitment he's putting into his future, like quitting the drugs. "Anything and everything that is a bad influence on me is going. I'm shutting it out." were his words. 

"Sometimes I just want to give up, it's so hard. But people's stories are keeping me strong. It's tough, though. It's really hard." 

I nod, sympathy swelling up in my head. "Have any of your previous band members come to see you?"

"Nope. Not even my best friend. He was supposed to visit a few weeks ago, to sort some things out. Never showed up." 

"I'm sorry for - for everything. Really. I can't imagine how tough this must be."

"You're right - you really have no idea at all." I can sense him growing slowly agitated, so I choose to finish there.

I finish writing down the last of his answers and then smile at him as truly as I feel, because I really admire him for his strength and courage.

"Thank you so much, Ronnie. This is probably the best interview I've done, honestly." The corners of his mouth stretch into a wide smile. 

"Thank you." he says with pride. "I would shake your hand, but I would look pretty stupid with these on." he holds up his cuffed hands and smirks lopsidedly. I laugh and nod. 

All I can do is grin from ear to ear as I continue my plan. I take my notepad and rip out a new page, along with the pen I used. I hand them to Ronnie and he takes them understandingly. He knows what he's doing. He probably did this all the time.

"You should only need one hand..."
 
He places the paper down and attempts to pick up the pen frustratingly. I have to bite my tongue to hold back a giggle. 
Ronnie grunts, and gives up trying to use the pen. "Sorry. They don't make these things very easy."

"It's okay. She already got a letter from you, and that's all she would ever ask for." 

"No shit..." his absent eyes grow large and his hands start to shake slightly. 
"...You know Anna?" 

I laugh. "I live with her. She's my best friend."