Warren hated to be thought of as a petulant poor little rich boy. He had always hated that assumption. However, today he couldn't help but exhale forcefully through nearly closed lips and roll his eyes at this whole situation. He was resentful and more than a little bitter, if truth be told but, what could he do? Kurt's father had fucked them both over but good. They were, in his own words, lucky that their sentence got reduced to simple community service. It had been a decisive and precise show of power.
It had also fucked Warren's carefully constructed alias all to hell. He lived in dread that his true identity might be known, because his fake name was now in the system, and if it was found out that he was using a false identity he was going to do some serious hard time instead of this silly menial labor crap. He had panicked. He should have thought to give his real name when arrested, but he hadn't, and now he was stuck.
That didn't mean he had to grin and bear it, so he groaned as he grabbed his appointed gear, seeing it had clearly been used before and made a mental note to invest on some Lysol or something for the duration of this ordeal.