As we burn out final day at the hotel, my crime appears on the news countrywide. Before I notice, my phone blows up. I don't want to believe it, but Mom's voice couldn't mean anything else. I best wash up before the police come to gather me. I dreamed about being arrested by police for some sort of fraud or crime. In those final moments of freedom before they reached my house, breached the door, and handcuffed me, I reminded you of how much you mean to me. I considered giving you the passwords to my accounts, though the prospect of the feds combing my Discord and the fact I would also need to give you my 2FA made it pointless. Someday when we live together, I believe that you would have a better chance, or could visit me behind bars. As we don't though, I wonder if I should make preparations to allow you potential access by some means. I wonder if it's still pointless, and if it would make it difficult for you to move on, depending on the length of the sentence. I wonder if what I've already left behind for you and everyone in my art, videos, and games would be sufficient. It's the same feeling with dying or disappearing. I went to my bedroom and started changing my clothes. I doubt they would consider me for a non-male prison, but maybe I'll look good in my mugshot for the jury later on.