You're a foreign exchange student who's been granted a scholarship to attend the University of San Andreas, Los Santos (ULSA).
Tracey De Santa signed herself up as a volunteer for one foreign student to reside at her home as part of the programme, for as long as they need (without asking her parent's permission of course).
You've been randomly selected by the university to reside at Miss Tracey De Santa's home until your studies end. Good luck!
"Oh my God! We're going to have so much fun!" She squeals and grips the steering wheel of her car in excitement. She being Tracey De Santa, your new friend. You watch her try to concentrate on driving through the Los Santos rush hour traffic. You're both on your way back from being introduced at your new university. It's about 3pm and the scorching sun almost blinds you from bouncing off her mirrored aviator shades.
You decide to enjoy the passing beauty of LS and let the air whip through your hair. It cools the rays of sunlight on your skin. Rockford Hills has some beautiful but expensive looking houses. You're unable to enjoy the full extent of the scenery as the radio was deafening; blasting some Pop radio station. A few of the songs you actually didn't mind. You were nervous but Tracey reassured you with a glancing smile, then the two of you were singing your lungs out.
You're unsure whether this was a good idea; signing up to the foreign exchange programme back in your school. You hate to make judgements before getting to know someone, but Tracey doesn't look like the kind of girl you'd get along with. She seemed like the bratty, spoiled, rich Daddy's girl who was probably one of the mean popular kids in high school. You appreciated having time alone with just yourself and your music, and weren't interested in drinking until you lost control of your own bladder or having sex with the entire football team like most people your age.
There's still time, Tracey may end up surprising you.
The orange-yellow Weeny convertible pulls into a curved brick drive leading to a huge mansion. You're in awe at the Spanish inspired architecture and are still staring at the house when Tracey kills the engine.
"You live... here?!" You say with a pause.
"Uh yah, that's why I drove here." Tracey puts her sunglasses in the glove box and leaves the car. You watch her enter her house. Even the front door was massive. You emerge from the car to open the trunk and grab your bags and suitcase. You stumble almost falling backward when you sling your heavy than expected duffle bag on your shoulder. Thanks for the help Trace.
Once you step inside and close the heavy wooden door, you hear Tracey speaking to presumably her dad. You place your bags in the corner out of the walk way and take a look around in the hall you're stood in. It's spacious and everything looks too luxurious to touch. You empathise with whoever has to clean this huge house. Your breathing slows as you try to listen to what Tracey is mumbling from the living room to your right, but you can't work out what they're saying and inch closer to a doorway opposite the staircase.
"YOU FUCKING DID WHAT?" You jump at the sudden outburst coming from the living room. Peaking your head around the archway you watch Tracey fold her arms and initiate an argument with her dad. He held a lot of tension in his shoulders when he stood.
"I SIGNED UP FOR THE FOREIGN EXCHANGE STUDENT PROGRAM THINGY DAD!"
"WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO THAT? I DON'T WANT SOME KNOW-IT-ALL COLLEGE STUDENTS USING MY HOUSE AS A FUCKING FRATERNITY!" Tracey's dad threw his arms up in frustration as he paced the living room. You noticed the raspiness in his voice when he yelled.
"OH MY GOD DAD! You're so embarrassing. It's just one student!"
"I don't care Tracey! You can't rent our house out without mine or your mother's permission! This isn't a fucking motel baby! So you better fucking unsign yourself up for this shit" Tracey's dad begins to walk away and in your direction, he hasn't seen you yet and turns his head to listen to Tracey's reply over his shoulder.
"I can't Dad." Tracey replies in a defeated tone.
"And why not?-" He stops and sees you standing in the hallway. The man frowns his brow above his pale blue eyes at you in confusion.
"Hi." You smile politely and rub your palms on the sides of your jean legs awkwardly.
The man sighs and runs his palm down his face and over his jaw line. You notice his mole on his matured face when he cracks his neck. You get the feeling this isn't the first time Tracey has done something major without consulting him or her mother before. Tracey moves from the middle of the living room and carefully slides past her father down the couple of steps connecting the living room to the hallway. She stands next to you in the hall. You watch his eyes watching Tracey's every move.
"Dad, this is the foreign exchange student from college." Tracey's standing slightly behind you. It's almost as though she's using you as a shield. There's a painfully long pause.
"Nice to meet you... I'm Y/N." The words stumble out of your mouth. He's staring at you and descends from the living room to stand a step above you and Tracey. Those must've been the bluest eyes you've ever seen.
"Michael." He nods. Michael drags his feet into the kitchen area opposite the front door. You watch him in the kitchen fix himself a drink of whiskey and then walk through the glass doors of the dining room. You watch him light a cigarette.
"Don't worry about him, he'll get over it." Your attention is on Tracey. She pulls you by the hand. "C'mon! I wanna show you your room!" Tracey pulls your hand up the staircase to the second floor of the house.
"What about my stuff?" You point to the pile of luggage in the corner of the hall near the door.
"I'll get my brother to help my dad later to bring it up. C'mon!" Tracey lets go of your hand at the top of the staircase. She opens a door to her left and walks into a spare bedroom with a comfy looking double bed complete with a striking bedspread and decretive pillows. The tall headboard was made of a dark velvety fabric. The bed alone must've cost a bomb. On the same wall of the doorway were a chest of drawers and a wide mirror that hung on the wall above it. Tracey sat down on the bed and supported herself with her arms. On the carved, dark wooden bedside tables were stain glass lamps, keeping with the theme of a Spanish style villa.
"Blame my mom for the decorating."
"It's beautiful. This bedroom is huge!"
"Mine's bigger." Tracey then bounces out of this room and you follow her to a bedroom opposite to the one where you'll be sleeping. You push the door she didn't hold open for you and enter Tracey's bedroom. You're quickly grabbed around the shoulders and blinded by a flashing light. You rub your eyes.
"What the fuck?" After blinking your vision back you see Tracey holding a pastel pink camera that's printing out a polaroid. She waves it in the air until she sees an image and hands it to you. You take it from her hand. You study the unflattering face you're making in the image and sigh, but you soon ignore it and notice the funny looking open-mouth pose Tracey is doing in the photo and smile. "Thanks Tracey." You smile at her and hold the picture with a genuine look of gratitude. Tracey smiles back at you and turns to sit down on her bed. You like the way she's decorated her room but it's not exactly your taste.
"So, what do you think of my room?" Tracey asks.
"It's very... purple..." You say looking around at the paisley print of her wallpaper. When your gaze is back on Tracey you're anxious that you've offended her with your bluntness. "-in a-uh good way."
"Thanks... so what do you want to do?" You shrug your shoulders and are about to reply with: I don't know, what do you want to do? before being interrupted by a whiny, masculine voice coming from another bedroom.
"I know what you can do. You can shut the fuck up for once-HAHA YEAH! Headshot! Suck my fat balls bitch! Dude, do you even have a penis? Or are you one of those hermaphro-dudes born without genitals?" You lean out of the doorway of Tracey's room and see another room next to hers with a door ajar. Inside this room it's dark, all you can see is a massive TV screen with a video game character holding a gun, squatting on a lifeless body. You can hear the clicking of a console controller.
"Fuck you Jimmy. Go fuck a Burger Shot" Tracey shouts.
"No thanks. Unlike you Trace, I have some standards." Jimmy fires back. Tracey stands, stomps passed you and into the room you were watching a moment ago. She flips the light on and you watch her snatch Jimmy's controller out of his hand and she throws it at the wall. It lands and breaks on his floor. Jimmy stands. "What the fuck?!" You approach Jimmy's bedroom and watch the two siblings begin to scream at each other. Jimmy is slightly shorter than his sister and holds some more weight around his stomach.
"That was a limited edition controller!" Jimmy rips his headset off and throws it onto his bed.
"I don't care. Buy another one, oh wait, you can't because you don't have any money because you're a bum who can't get a job."
"I can get a job! I just need some experience."
"You'll definitely find that playing video games all day-" Tracey laughs.
"Hey! Stop arguing" You shout, surprising yourself as well as Tracey and Jimmy. They're watching and waiting for your next word. "... please. I don't want to only listen to you two argue while I'm here. I understand you're brother and sister but please just drop it for tonight yeah?" You look at Tracey and Jimmy in the eye and they both hang their heads and show as little eye contact to one another whilst nodding. "I'm Y/N by the way." You introduce yourself to Jimmy.
"Jimmy. A.K.A Jizzle, Big-J, J-Dog, Dangerous-J take your pick." Jimmy was flirting. You nodded and smiled politely. Tracey rolled her eyes. Your attention was quickly drawn to hushed words in the hallway downstairs. You moved towards the stairs and leaned over slightly to look down from the top of the stairs and saw Michael. He had come back inside and was talking to a woman of similar age to himself. She was dressed in white tennis gear and was trying to understand his anger whilst trying to reason with him.
"I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it Michael. She was probably thinking she was trying to help out. A lot of schools have trouble housing foreign exchange students."
"I know 'Mand, but she didn't even ask us."
"I'll talk to her." The woman rubbed Michael's back and glanced in your direction. You sprung backwards avoiding her gaze. "Tracey?"
"Yeah Mom?" Tracey was lying on her stomach on her bed with her knee socked legs bent upward. She's scrolling through her phone. Jimmy closes his bedroom door and salutes you with his index finger and middle finger together, as a gesture of goodbye before his door closes. You hear the audio from his video game continue and he's shouting profanities into his headset again.
"Can you come here please?" Tracey descends the staircase in a huff. She tells you as she passes she won't be long. You decide to wait at the top of the stairs. You hear a mumble of Tracey and her mother talking about your situation and Michael loudly chimes in a couple of times. Then it ends abruptly and Tracey comes up the stairs to get you.
"My mom wants to meet you." Tracey says and turns for you to follow her. You do so and are lead into the shiny kitchen where you see Michael, and Tracey's mother shushing him as you enter the room. You wear a courteous smile as Tracey's mom approaches you.
"Hello, I'm Amanda and this is Michael." Amanda points to Michael.
"Hi. I'm Y/N." Your hand does a little awkward wave.
"Don't look so nervous, if you're going to living here, you may as well have a tour of the house. I'll show you around" Your first impression of Amanda was positive. She seemed nice enough.
"'Mand?" Michael says sharply before being cut off by Tracey.
"So Y/N can stay?" Tracey's tone was high.
"It's ok with me. Are you ok with it Michael?" Amanda turns to face Michael and he throws his hands up in defeat as though whatever he said wouldn't matter anyway.
"Yeah, sure." Michael said flatly with a sigh. Amanda returns to you and Tracey.
"It's a bit sudden though Tracey, so don't ever do anything like this again without consulting us first. Deal?" Amanda was firm yet forgiving.
"I promise Mom. Sorry-YAY THANK YOU!" Tracey screams and claps.
"Tracey has shown you the guest room I assume?" You try to retain eye contact with Amanda but Michael catches your eye when he pours himself another drink. You look back to Amanda and nod. "Good!" Amanda ushers you to the dining table "This is our dining room, out there is the pool, hot tub and down the steps there is the tennis court."
"Wow. This place is amazing." You hear Michael scoff rudely from the kitchen. Amanda flashes a frown in the direction of the kitchen and continues. "In here is our living room" Amanda was standing in front of the white sofas of the living room and then points to where you met Michael. "And through there is the hallway where you came in."
"Did you decorate the downstairs too Mrs De Santa?" You ask as you're admiring the strange portraits of Jimmy and Tracey that stand out amongst the other lavish paintings and furniture.
"Please, call me Amanda."
"Okay, Amanda." You smile.
"Yes, I did actually, why?"
"It's lovely just like the guest bedroom."
"Well," Amanda was flustered, she wasn't expecting a compliment. "Thank you very much Y/N."
"You're welcome." You reply. Amanda smiles warmly at you.
"Right. I'm going to have a nice relaxing post workout bath. Sit down. Tracey watch something with Y/N will you?" Amanda heads upstairs and Tracey sits you down where Michael was sitting before. She takes a seat next to you and presses a button on the remote. A projector screen slowly inches down in front of you. She flips through the channels and settles on a program called Fame Or Shame.
"Oh I've heard of this show, aren't the contestants like bat shit crazy?" You laugh. You thought you heard a small laugh from the kitchen, Tracey however doesn't laugh with you. You look over to her and try to find out why.
"I was a contestant." She says annoyed.
"Sorry, I- You're not bat shit crazy."
"I was disqualified."
"What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything. I was just doing my routine, and killing it, the judges were really into it" You began to notice when Tracey spoke a whole lot, the tone of her sentences would always go up at the end. She began to shout so her Dad could hear her from the kitchen. "Then my bat shit crazy Dad and his best friend barged into my audition and totally freaked out on Lazlow the presenter."
"Why did they do that?" Tracey shrugs her shoulders.
"I was stopping her from being the national laughing stock" Michael enters from the dining room. His presence makes you jump slightly.
"I could have been famous." Tracey spits with some venom.
"Try college first. Then if you feel like it, go try again. I can't stop you." Michael sits next to Tracey on the longer side of the sofa.
"That was my big break Dad! Fame Or Shame probably won't be around when I'm done with college."
"Maybe then it wasn't meant to be." Michael says with compassion.
"OR maybe it was, and you and Uncle Trevor just blew it?" Tracey was genuinely hurt from her Dad's decision to stop her auditioning, even if it was the best thing for her. Michael downed his glass of amber liquid to stop himself from lashing out in front of you. After he finished he cracked his neck again.
"Ooh, ouch. My ears are burning!" You and Tracey looked to see who this additional voice was. Michael sprung up from staring at the floor and stood protectively. You saw a very tall, top heavy man in the archway leading to the hallway. He was leaning like he's been stood there for a while. Tracey changed her tune and ran towards the man to hug him.
"Trevor! What are you doing here?" Tracey said with a smile. Trevor wrapped one of his big, meaty arms around her caringly and she gave him a squeeze around his small waist.
"I guess this is the Uncle Trevor Tracey was talking about" You laugh quietly to Michael. He just looked down at you and gave you a forced smile and then continued to keep his eyes on Trevor. Michael was tense; you weren't sure as to why. Tracey let go of Trevor when he advanced toward you. You stood out of courtesy but Michael was quickly by your side. Trevor didn't notice Michael's demeanour when he entered the living room.
"And who are you cupcake?" Trevor gave you a creepy smile before turning to Michael. "Miiichael." Trevor tuts and shakes his head. "Shame on you."
"What?" Michael's confused.
"Aren't you going to introduce us?" You're very aware of where Trevor's eyes are and clear your throat. You try not to make eye contact with him. Before Michael can say a word, Tracey introduces the two of you for him.
"Trevor, this is Y/N, she's a foreign exchange student from my college. She's going to be staying with us while she studies at ULSA. Y/N this is my uncle Trevor, he's my dad's best friend."
"Nice to meet you." Trevor holds out his hand for you to shake it. You're hesitant but respectfully accept the handshake. You notice a small tattoo of a scorpion above his thumb and the rest of his tattoos on his knuckles. His hand is warm but rough. Trevor lingers a bit too long with the shake and Michael pulls his hand away from yours. Trevor gives him an angry stare before following him into the dining room and outside by the pool. You can see them doing a lot of hand gestures and frowning at each other but they aren't loud enough to hear clearly.
"He's not supposed to be here." Tracey remarks. She's sitting down on the sofa again texting someone.
"Who? Trevor? I thought you said he was your dad's best friend."
"He is. But my mom doesn't want Trevor around us; she says he's a bad influence."
"That's probably why your dad took him outside to talk to him, to see what he wants?"
"I guess." Tracey replies without looking up from her phone. Her phone begins to ring. "I'm just gonna go upstairs, I gotta take this call. I won't be long."
"Okay. I'm gonna get a glass of water and then probably unpack." You call to Tracey as she's heading up the stairs.
"Okay!" She shouts back. You're stood alone in the living room and try to casually avoid looking in the direction of Michael and Trevor as you enter the kitchen. You're intrigued to know what they were talking about. You catch the end of a conversation of an unknown topic. You can hear them better in the kitchen.
"So what's the score?" Trevor asks.
"What?" Michael replies.
"The foreign exchange student. She's beautiful, in a young and naive sort of way."
"The fuck? Trevor she's the same age as Tracey for God's sake."
"Don't give me that bullshit! As if you haven't thought about it."
"Fucking Christ."
You're embarrassed to what you've just heard and try to drink your water as quickly as you can. It doesn't occur to you to just take it upstairs with you. You rinse the cup and turn towards the kitchen archway leading out to the hallway. You're cheeks are burning as you try your hardest to take your entire luggage up the stairs by yourself in one trip. You're about half way and lose your balance from the weight and stumble.
"As long as she's legal I don't give a fuck." Trevor holds his arms up in a shameless way and shrugs.
"Yeah, we all know you and the not giving a fuck, T."
"Fuck you Mikey."
"Can't you just leave now?"
"Fine. I've got shit to do anyway-" Trevor turns on his heel but is startled with Michael by a loud noise from inside. The noise is from your suitcase crashing back down the stairs. The two men come jogging into the hall and observe the suitcase on its side. The contents of your suitcase spill onto the floor in front of them. Trevor notices some of your underwear. You've witnessed Trevor and Michael eyeing your sexy underwear. You packed just incase. Before any of them get a glimpse back at your tomato of a face, you've bolted into the spare bedroom. Seeing you run away from the situation makes Trevor grin wickedly. You drop the bags you were able to hold onto, on the floor of the spare room and slide your back down against the closed door. Meanwhile, Michael is scooping up your clothing back into your suitcase and carries it to your door and leaves it outside. You're listening closely to their footsteps. They're getting further and further away before you jump out of your skin due to some hard knocking on the door.
"DELIVERY!" Trevor teases. His voice is high pitched as if he's about to burst out laughing. You hang your head in the palms of your hands and cringe.