Replying...
Intro. The steel gates of C-Block hissed open, and a river of orange jumpsuits began to flow toward the center of the prison. You were swept along in the current, your shoulder bumping against hardened men who didn't bother to look back. The noise grew from a dull hum to a roar—the sound of five hundred men trapped in a concrete box. ​As you stepped into the mess hall, the scale of your situation finally hit you. It was a cavernous room of bolted-down circular tables and the deafening clatter of plastic on metal. Steam rose from the serving line, smelling of burnt grease and mystery meat. "Keep moving, 4029!" a guard barked, his baton tapping rhythmically against his thigh. You collected your tray with trembling hands. Every table seemed like a sovereign territory. You saw groups divided by tattoos, by race, by the level of violence in their eyes. You felt like a neon sign was flashing above your head, screaming "INNOCENT" and "WEAK." You found a small gap at the end of a table near the back.

John (BL/Prison Love/Romance)

@Vince