NOTICE!!!!

THIS STORY CONTAINS VIOLENCE, SEXUAL INTERACTIONS, AND LANGUAGE THAT IS NOT MEANT TO BE HEARD OR READ BY LITTLE KIDS! IF YOU HAVE ANY PROBLEMS WITH ANY OF THE FOLLOWING, THEN I SUGGEST YOU TAKE YOUR LEAVE NOW WHILE YOU'RE STILL AHEAD! THERE WILL BE WORDS LIKE FUCK, SHIT, NIGGA, PUSSY, DICK, AND SO ON AND SO FORTH.

ENJOY

Los Santos International Airport
1100 Hours

April 11th, 2016

The plane lands with a rather harsh turbulence on the runway of Los Santos International Airport. As soon as everyone is departed, one man in his mid-to-late twenties made his way outside the airport, he was to meet an African American male who had suggested coming here.

He was a just-the-right-amount-of-muscle Hispanic male. Standing 6"3', his long black and dark brown hair covered by a chestnut cowboy hat. His extremely dark brown eyes glistening in the light. A dark brown and black beard kept on his face that looks like he takes care of it. He wore a pair of black Levi's jeans, green and white socks, and to finish the lower body part of his attire off, a pair of black ARIAT combat boots. His upper body consisted of a light grey Dri-fit shirt covered by a black jean jacket. This was Jared Paul McMurtrey, who lived in Liberty City for 10 years. His age is 29 and he is about to see some serious shit.

Jared's POV

As I make my way outside; only two duffel bags in my hands with one filled with clothes and the other filled money left over from Liberty City, I can see the man who told me to even come here in the first place.

His attire consisted of blue jeans made by the Arizona brand, a chain dangling out of his left pocket. For shoes he wore some black ZIKE sneakers. His top was a black T-shirt covered by a green short-sleeved button-up shirt. This man is Lamar Davis, regular of Los Santos. May not seem like much, but this man is actually the crew leader of LD.

"Yo! Ova' here!" He waved. My friend and I looked at each other once, nodded, then walked over to his car. We loaded our luggage in the trunk, only taking out our pocket knives, and the Wood Engraved Finished Heavy Pistols. He put the weapons in their respective holsters and got in the car.

"Nigga, you don't know how long I've waited to finally meet you. I can tell ya. Whateva ya did in New York, ain't nothin' compared to what's 'bout to happen here." He drove us out of the airport area and took me to nearly the ghetto part of LS.

"I'm takin from the silence that yo crazy ass don't speak much. Well, that's prolly for the best. One wrong word here and "POP" yo ass dead as a doornail! Though, if you play yo cards right, then you'll be popular with other bitches tryna kill you and hoes wantin to suck yo' dick. Enough of that though, for now." He pulled into a car dealership and parked out back. I'm guessing he works here. But man this guy does not shut the fuck up.

"Imma hook you up with my boss, Simeon. Nigga wanna get a good start, then yo ass need a pimpin' ride!" He unlocked the garage and opened the doors, walking in and into the nearest office inside.

"You must be the one that my best employee Lamar was just telling me about. But let me ask. Are you racist?" His Russian accent was more noticeable than anything.

I said nothing and only pulled his hand down with a scowl on my face. Simply giving him a look saying to try that again. Sometimes, growing up from Texas and moving to New York is a blessing. Taught me about intimidation. And damn, did I knew how to use it.

"Very good. I like doing business with men who don't take shit from nobody! Now come in. Tell me which one you will find more fitting." I followed him inside the rather small dealership. There he showed me a couple cars that were way too expensive for liking. At least, for now.

But as I was looking around, I found my perfect ride that I needed. It was a Pegassi Bati 800. The perfect look, the smooth design, it had everything that I needed and more. That, and it looked badass.

Wallet out and ready to pay, I made a look that asked how much the cost was going to be. But he simply waved his hand as if declining the money.

"No payment. For newcomers, it's on the house. Enjoy the ride." He threw me the keys as well as directions. "Those will take you to Los Santos Customs. You can customize your ride their. My friend Hao works there. I will pay for your purchases. Pleasure doing business with you." He shook our hands and we parted ways. Lamar telling me that Simeon wants him and his friend Franklin to do a job for him.

I got onto the bike, and damn did the fucker purr. Pulling out of the small dealership, I drove through the city streets of Los Santos, home to the IAA headquarters building and the ever so large Maze Bank Tower.

As the gps tells me to turn left, I see the sign of Los Santos Customs. It gave off an old vibe to it. Pulling in, a man waves at me. Looking around, there's a car that looks like he's been working on for awhile now.

"Greetings. You must be the guy who Simeon told me about. Man, let me take a look at that for ya. I could add some really cool upgrades for you."

And just like that, I immediately get out and start taking a look at the catalog for the available parts I could get. Obviously the Full Engine Upgrade, Turbo, Race Breaks, Full Body Armor, Xeon Lights, and the whole deal.

"Alright then. I'll see what I can do." For me, it didn't seem no longer than an hour. On my phone, it actually took two. I didn't want to feel like a nuisance being here, so I helped Hao with the additions to my motorcycle, and damn did it look badass. I shook his hand and drove out of the Mod Shop, looking for a place to stay. But while I was driving around, I pass under a bridge and see someone getting their ass beat.

Deciding to be the better person, I get off of my vehicle and drop-kick one of the guys that was just beating the man on the floor, effectively knocking him on his back. The other guy just looked at me, pulled out a switchblade, and charged at me. Time seemed to slow down for me as he came. I grabbed his arm with my hand, slammed it on my knee rendering the appendage broken and forcing him to drop the blade, and knocked him out with a strong punch to the temple. His friend came towards me with a broken bottle and shanks it at me. I only roll off of his arm and used my momentum to jump up and kick him in his left temple, opening up a gash and putting him out for the count.

Taking a look at the guy that I just saved, I was not surprised anymore why he couldn't do anything to retaliate. Sitting before me was a man in his mid-to-late forties. He had on a straw hat that was meant for vacationing, and some cracked glasses on his face. His upper body consisted of a red buttoned-up short sleeve shirt. He wore tan cargo shorts, and a pair of black sandals.

"Thank you for the save. I'm Ron. And you're about to be kidnapped." Saying nothing else, I hear footsteps before my vision went black.

Unknown Location
1900 hours

Opening my eyes, I feel a massive headache. The room is dark, but I could tell by the size and the few lights around the area that I'm in an aircraft hangar. I try to stand up, but my legs are tied to a chair that's bolted to the ground. I also find my hands to be restrained behind my back.

'Just where the hell am I?'

"Well look who's awake! The guy who saved my CEO of my company! I gotta tell ya kid, you don't look like the type who's momma raised a bitch out of. With the way you beat the shit outta those two guys." His voice is gruff, but as he walks into the light, he looks like he has been in the redneck areas around.

His hair was nearly completely off his head, with a clean shaven white face. His white short sleeved shirt stained with what I suppose is Pisswasser beer in a few spots. His dark blue jeans torn a little around the shin area. Brown work boots hide his feet from the world. His eyes hold a light brown hue to them and some craze as well. I can only guess that this was the guy who knocked my lights out a few hours ago.

"You see, I am grateful that you saved Ron's ass from thugs, but now you know about our business and I only have two choices. Choice number one! I can kill you and never have to deal with you again, leaving me to do my day to day routines and you to go either to Heaven, Hell, or whatever. I'm not religious ok?" He offers, this choice I'm not really fond of because, well, I die.

"Or, we could do choice number two! You join me and my organization! Trevor Philips Industries! You help me with deals and I help you with finding a place to stay. I'll even make you my Treasurer." Now this one I like. Even though I'm forced to work a guy I don't barely know. Choosing to live than to die, I show my hand as best as I can holding up two fingers for the second choice. He looks at me weird and the next words out of his mouth is something I'm used to hearing. "What are ya? Mute." I could only nod my head in a hurt type manner.

"Oh shit pal. I'm sorry to hear that. Really I am. Now let me get you out of those restraints so you can help us steal a van of from the Lost MC." He cut the ties off my hands and my legs. Though I couldn't speak, I'm sure that he got the message of my expression. 'What?!'

May 5th, 2016
1200 Hours
Vinewood Hills

After about four weeks working Trevor, I finally bought my own place in Vinewood Hills. This way, I could still be close to Simeon whenever he has repo jobs for me, and I can drive over to Sandy Shores Airfield in case T has a job for me. The house address I owned is currently 3655 Wild Oats Drive. And I gotta say, I'm glad that working for both of them allowed me to own this house. It was not cheap.

Currently drinking a glass of whiskey, I get a text from Lamar telling me that Simeon wanted to see Franklin and I at his dealership. I replied with a 'Be there in 10' and drank the glass.

I went out to my garage and got on my Bati, and drove down to Simeon's. As I pull in, I see Frank waiting for me before we head inside.

Franklin was a black male who stood about 6" tall, giving me three inches taller than him. He was a man of an average build and can drive like no other. He wears a button-up shirt with a white tank top underneath. Tan colored khakis covered his lower body along with some brown running shoes and white socks.

"Ay man. You ready for this shit, dawg?" I could tell that from the text he must've got, it most likely will not be a good job. But, I could only nod and walk in, already hearing Simeon talking to someone about them being racist.

"Yo, Simeon! We're here for that job you wanted us to do!" Frank yelled while walked over to him.

"Franklin, my boy! It is so good to see you." As he was filling Franklin in on the job, I walked over to the customer he was dealing with.

He was looking at the car, which was nice, I'll admit, but I only shook my head and motioned for him to leave while he still could.

"Alright then, you two go." And like that, we were off. F in his Bravado Buffalo, and me on my Bati.

I called him up, and he started explaining the job details to me.

"Some kid in Rockford Hills. Apparently he didn't pay his bills or some shit, dawg. Hang on." As he answered his other call, I got a text from Simeon telling me I'm fired for that bike that we took back but never returned. Shit man, I didn't even say anything about the bike. Must've been Lamar.

"Yo dawg, I may or may not have a job after this." He told me. I texted him saying that I was fired as well, not too worried about it but still.

"Shit, playa. Well, you best be gettin payed for this shit. Otherwise Simeon can stick it up his white, Arab ass." He and I shared a laugh as we neared the house. And holy shit was it big. This dude had to be rich in order to afford it.

The gate was locked so we had to climb over. "Yo dawg. I'm not one for climbing shit so imma let you do this." I only nodded and made my way over the fence, landing silently so the gardener wouldn't hear me. I sneak up behind him and chop his neck, rendering him unconscious and fall to the floor.

I whistled to Franklin, while he was on the other side of the gate. Moving my head towards the garage door, I asked him if the garage was unlocked.

"No, nigga. You hafta find another way in."

Walking around, I see an upstairs window open. Using the truck that the gardener parked underneath, I pulled myself onto the roof and went through the open window.

Once in, I nearly blew my cover already. I silently stepped into the bathroom, and as soon as my feet hit the floor, some teenage girl walked out of a room, yelling at someone.

"You are such a perv!!!"

"Yeah, well you're such a loose bitch!"

Storming out, she yelled at her mom, telling her what the boy in the room called her. Once she was outta the way, I started silently walking towards the stairs, hearing the boy trash talk some kids on a game, and the girl calling her friend telling her that her brother was jacking off to a picture of her.

Making my way downstairs, I turn the corner only to hide behind it again. A woman and what looks like her tennis coach walked inside to grab a drink. But, when they started working on her form, it looked more... sexual. I took that time to enter the garage while they were doing that and entered the car. I put the key in ignition and drove out the place. Seeing Franklin pull out behind me, I lead the way to the shop while texting Frank to call Simeon.

Things were going smoothly, albeit too smooth. I figured something was off when I felt the cold steel of a gun pressed on the back of my head.

"Listen. I ain't got no room to fuck around. I want to know why you sneaked into my house and stole my sons car." Looking through the rear view, I take a look at the man threatening me. He was a middle-aged white man, wearing a blue shirt-collared shirt and a pair of cargo shorts.

I signed "I can't speak." to him and he seemed to understand.

"What about your buddy behind us? Can he?" I nodded. "Then put him on the phone."

I called Franklin and put him on the speaker, as soon as he answered, the guy behind me immediately pulled out another threat.

"Listen pal. I got your friend at gunpoint and if you so much feed me the wrong word, I will put two bullets in the back of his fucking skull. Now tell me why you two are taking my sons ridiculously expensive car." He wasn't joking because I felt the cold steel being pushed harder against my head.

I did Morse code, telling Franklin to just fucking tell him why.

"Listen man. We was just doing what Simeon told us. He said that your son was fallin behind payments and that we had to repo the car."

"Bullshit! My son just bought that car last week! No fucking way he could be falling behind them!"

"Yo, dawg. That's all he told us. We were just doin the repo. We didn't know how long ago the car was bought. Shit, we don't know anything about the fucking car! But you don't need to kill my nigga in there with you!"

Satisfied with the answer, he hung up as he told me to pull over by the overpass right in front of Simeon's.

"Now listen. You're going to drive right through the fucking front window of the store. If not, I will unload the entire clip into your skull."

Not feeling like dying, I did it without any hesitation, nearly hitting Simeon in the process.

"What the fuck are you doing?! You know how much that will fucking cost me?!" He yelled.

The man and I got outta the car and he handed me a $100 bill. "Get outta here, find somewhere better to work." I took the money and ran to Franklin's car, driving off as soon as I got in.

We went to get my bike back from the house and we drove our separate ways, me heading back to my place and him to his aunt's. I pulled into my garage and walked into my place. Setting my keys down on the counter, I walked downstairs and into the shower.

Once in, I mainly just leaned on the wall, thinking to myself and coming to the fact that it wasn't the first time I've been held gun point, remembering back in Texas and Liberty City.

"Just what the fuck have I gotten myself into?"

-End Scene-

Ayo!!!! The cabs are finally here to take this first chapter public for everyone to either enjoy or report the author. I mean, hey. What can I say?

This is, as mentioned before, the first chapter/book that I have made that uses such language. Hell, even I don't talk like this in real life. But in order to make the reader feel like they are truly in the game, I had to do what needed to be done. But yeah. First chapter, but definitely not the last.

I do not own any rights to the Grand Theft Auto Franchise or to the characters. They are respectively owned by Rockstar Games and Rockstar North. I only hold control of Jared (I'm him. Duh.)

BLOOPERS!!!!

-Open Scene-

Trevor: "You see, I think you chose the wrong option, by not saying a goddamn fucking word to me!! I told you the fucking consequences, and now you will see that I was right!!"

With that said, and in no time for me to react, he pulls out his gun and shoots me right in the head. The world turned black and white before the words, printed in red coloring, WASTED, appeared before my face.

I somehow, pop in at a random spot in Los Santos, by my car, and confused as hell.

Jared's Head: 'So I'm immortal now. Cool.'

-Change Scene-

I swerved the car into the window, not at all knowing the Simeon was right behind it the whole time.

Micheal: "Holy Shit. That took a lot less time than expected."

I nodded with him and I got out of the car, him handing me a couple Benjamin's on my way out, and walked back to my apartment.

'Holy shit.'

-End Scene-