"So you got the job." Wilson stated after Cassandra had left.
Elanor nodded, taking a sip of her Pisswasser. "Yep.
Wilson shook his head. Like usual Elanor didn't tell her mother the whole truth. She had gotten away with telling her that she had gotten a job at a bar not too far from Rockford Hills. At first, Cassandra wasn't thrilled that it was that Elanor was at a bar but the fact it was close to Rockford made it up to her.
"Well," She had sighed. "At least the tips will be nice."
"Okay, so what are you gonna do about the car situation?" Wilson asked after a moment.
Elanor looked at him from the corner from her eye, not wanting to meet his hard gaze. "I dunno." She grumbled, staring down at the bottle in her hand. "I'll keep taking a cab until I can figure that out."
"You can use my car." Wilson suggested. "I get off before your shift so you could-"
She shook her head quickly. "No. I mean, thanks for the offer but I'd rather figure this out myself."
Wilson didn't respond. He looked at Elanor one last time before leaving, getting fed up with his stepdaughter's pride. She watched him leave the room before leaning back into the clean leather sofa, taking a bigger gulp of beer. In a way, Elanor did appreciate the fact Wilson cared enough to try to help her out. But all the same, he wasn't her father and her father had raised her to never take help from anyone.
"You don't need any damn handouts from no one." His words echoed in her mind. His voice harsh and raspy, just like she had remembered all those years ago. "If you can't take care of yourself then you're just another useless piece of shit in this whole fucked up society."
She placed a hand to her temple, trying to make the memory of him go away with another gulp of beer.
"Fuuuck..." Trevor growled, tugging a dirty torn blanket over his face to block out the sunlight coming from his stained window. He felt his head pound at every slight sound. Last night had been a wild one; at the bar, he had managed to pick up two respectable Latinas who were looking for some extra work since their night at the truck stop was slow. So of course, being the knight in shining armor he is, Trevor came in and took these lovely ladies home to show them some good hospitality.
From the main room of the trailer, he could hear the two girls talking to each other in Spanish before leaving, ever so rudely slamming the door behind him.
"For fuck sakes!" He snapped, tossing the blanket to the ground he crawled out of bed, his eyes squinting against the afternoon sun. What made things worse besides his hangover was the fact he couldn't find his backup stash of speed. It had almost been a day and a half since he had gotten his fix, and it would rot in hell before he'd go for another hour without one little pill. He began to throw things around his home looking for any signs of his stash. "Where the fuck is it? Where are those little shits?"
As he began to lift his bed up the door swung open and Ron, the President of his business, walked in.
"Trev-" He began but was cut off by his boss's angry snarl.
"Have you fuckers ever heard of knocking?!"
"S-sorry, boss." Ron stuttered, taking a step back as Trevor stormed his way past him in nothing but his dirty underwear. "Bbbbad time?"
"Ya think?" Trevor began to toss open cabinets, shoving and tossing things around.
Ron watched his boss in silence, he knew better than to even blink around Trevor when he was in this mood. "You got anything?" Trevor called over.
Ron understood what he meant. He dug around his pockets and pulled out a fresh packet of meth that Chef had finished up earlier in the day. At the sight of it, Trevor had flipped on a dime; his anger melted away and he looked like he was going to weep...Almost.
As the glorious rush of the drug to over him, Trevor seemed to pull himself together. He let out a satisfied groan and leaned against the kitchen counter, his eyes closed as he savored the feeling of the drug taking its effect. "M'kay Ron." He said after a minute. "Tell me what's up."
"We-well." Ron stuttered, starting to pace back and forth in front of the other man. "You see I got a call this morning. A-a really BIG call." Trevor nodded to show he understood. "It was a call from a b-big drug dealer-no, not even a drug dealer. That's too below them- a corporation, if you will."
"Get to the point, Ron. You're losing me here."
"It...It was from the Los Santos Triads."
At this Trevor had to do a double take at Ron, not sure he could entirely believe what he was saying. "You're bullshitting me right?"
"No sir!" Ron said quickly. "I-I'd never bullshit you! They called saying they might be interested in doing business with us!"
Trevor rubbed his chin thoughtfully. On one hand, this was fantastic news. The Triads were a large and powerful underground gang that were well known for their business in gunrunning and meth dealing all over the city. They were pretty much what he aspired to be himself, except within Blaine County. The only thing that seemed off to him was why did they call them? Of course, Trevor felt a great amount of pride that they would consider him as a partner but still, his 'company' was still pretty small scale. Even if he was hopped up on meth this scenario seemed off.
"Uhh...Boss?" Ron's shaky voice brought Trevor back to reality.
"Did they mention if they wanted to meet up?" Trevor question.
"Not...Not really." Ron went on hesitantly. "They told me th-they would be in contact with us...Ya know, give us updates and stuff..."
Trevor nodded. He pushed himself off the counter with a grunt and went for the door, Ron on his heels. "So, Ron." He said, slapping a large, scarred hand on his companion's shoulder making him jump. "Tell me what deals we to run today?"
"We h-have a few...But boss-"
"What now?!"
"Don't you think you should...Put some pants on at least?"
Elanor ran into her bedroom, vigorously rubbing a towel on her dark, damp hair. She had lost track of time during her jog and before she knew it it was an hour before her shift started. She had finished a quick shower so she didn't look or smell like a piece of shit and that in it of itself waisted too much time for her liking. She quickly grabbed the first pieces of clothing she saw in her draws and tugged them on.
Elanor took a quick look in the mirror to make sure she wasn't a mess. She looked fine enough but if it hadn't been for the time she would have picked something that hid her figure better. Perhaps it had to do with the fact her father always reminded her how he wished she was a boy and that she would always be weak because she wasn't one. Taking his words to heart she had always felt self-conscious about her feminine appearance.
Before she could change her mind Elanor saw the time on her alarm clock.
5:45 PM
Her shift started at six-thirty and the drive itself could take an hour to get from the Canals into Blaine County if the traffic was bad enough. She prayed that she would get that crazy Indian driver again as she began to dial for the cab company.
By the time she had reached the bar she was twenty minutes late to her shift. She slammed the door as she left the cab driver, ignoring them as they cussed her out for not leaving a tip.
From the number of cars, it seemed like the place would be mildly busy tonight. Her stomach turned a bit as her nerves got to her, she kept thinking about what would happen if a customer got to her. She couldn't lose another job and she would be damned if she lost it on the first night.
Mustering up what confidence she had she went into the bar. Elanor was greeted by the loud drunken laughs of the locals and the smell of tobacco, and cheap beer danced together in the air. The place definitely had more life in it than the other day.
As she made her way to the bar Janet came out of her office, when the older woman's eyes landed on Elanor a small smirk played on her deep red lips.
"Late on the first day." She commented, joining Elanor behind the bar. "Great way to start things up, huh?"
"Sorry." Elanor muttered, looking out at the customers. By this time more than a few had noticed her and were giving her odd looks that varied from confused to looking downright evil.
Janet had her back turned to the crowd as she began to pull out some beers for Elanor to give to some men at the bar. "Don't let it happen again, kid. I need someone dependable." She stood up and put a hand on her hip. "Can you do that?"
Elanor nodded eagerly. "Yes, ma'am."
"Janet. Call me Janet, please!" She cried, shaking her head. "God, I'm not that old to be called ma'am, am I?"
Knowing full well if she wanted to keep her job Elanor didn't respond. She passed the beers out to the men and noticed they too were looking at her oddly. All of them had an uncertain look about them as if they weren't sure they should be in the same room as her.
Elanor glanced over to Janet and mouthed out "What's wrong with them."
Janet pulled Elanor off to the side and spoke in a low voice so no one else could hear them.
"Look, kid. You're a stranger to these folks and people around here don't trust anyone who hasn't been here for more than a month."
'Guess I can forget about good tips.'
"Just...Act natural. Be good to the customers and they'll be good to you." The older woman explained, pouring a glass of old whiskey. "Simple as that, kid. Now get this whiskey to that fella' over there."
It was close to midnight by the time Trevor had finished his runs for the company. He had gone all around Blaine County doing dealings Ron had set up before time and had to stop at the lab to check on how production was going, and help Chef dispose of some 'trash'. It was hard work for a man like him, trying to make an honest living in this crazy fucked up world. But it was all worth it when the money came flowing in and oh, did it flow tonight.
He grinned to himself as he thought about how this was just the beginning. How one day this little operation of his would spread out like HIV in an infected prostitute. It would reach from the West Coast into Mexico, and the name Trevor Phillips would be feared by every cartel and gang leader in the underworld. He would be on top, no matter what the costs.
He drove through the empty streets of Sandy Shores, thinking to himself; "Trevor, you did a damn good job today. You deserve to have a night to yourself after helping those poor bastards get their fix."
Agreeing with himself Trevor began to turn his truck around to head into Los Santos to go to his favorite strip joint. Before he could do so he caught sight of the obnoxious You're in Pisswasser Country sign on the Yellow Jack in and that's when he remembered he had some unfinished business with a new employ at that fine establishment.
Elanor lazily watched a group of drunk friends across the room throw darts at one of their friends, barely missing his head by inches with each unsteady throw. With each dart landing loudly into the wall, it brought back another fond memory of her loving, nurturing father and how he did something similar to her when she was ten, except instead of darts they were bullets.
"Should I stop them?" Elanor called over to Janet, not taking her eyes off the only entertainment she had at this point.
Janet glanced over her shoulder, giving the death glare to the group of friends. "No, I got them." She grumbled. "After I get them out can you keep an eye on the place? I need to get some paperwork done before the feds are on my ass."
"No problem."
And surely it wouldn't be. Most of the people had left the bar almost an hour ago and the ones remaining were either passed out drunk or still didn't trust her enough to go near her.
She stifled a yawn as Janet began to order the men out, threatening them with the police not noticing a pair of headlights flash across the window. As the men left a familiar and annoying face appeared from the doorway.
"What the hell, Jan?" The man cried as he made his way in. "You trying to drive out all your business?"
Elanor's scanned over him, taking in his chaotic appearance. From his balding head to his filthy sweatpants, the man looked like he crawled out of a dumpster...Or maybe he just lived in one.
"Janet's busy," Elanor told him as he took a seat.
"Ah, I see." Trevor snickered. "You killed her didn't ya?"
"Wait-what?" Elanor blurted, her mind trying to connect the dots on what the hell this man was on about.
"You know; done her in? Kicked her rusty old bucket for her? You should have told me about it," He went on, scratching his face with his mouth hanging open slightly. "Could have helped ya get rid of the body."
Elanor was bewildered by his words, she was hoping that the last part of his statement was nothing but him being weird. Yet something about the way he said it told her he wasn't kidding entirely.
Trying to change the subject Elanor asked him if he wanted something.
Trevor screwed his eyebrows together, acting as if the question required serious thinking. "Mhh...Yeah. Yeah, I think I'll have some whiskey and your fucking name if ya don't mind, sweetie." He gave her a wink, making her internally gag.
As she poured him the drink she asked him what his name was.
"Didn't you catch it the other day when your banshee of a boss was screeching her head off?" He asked, snatching the glass away from Elanor and gulping the fiery liquid down in one go. He slammed the glass down and gave out a wild howl. "Goddamn, that's the good stuff. Why don't you be a good girl and give me another round."
She took the glass from him and poured him some more, as she did she was looking at the 'cut here' tattoo around his neck. She started to think how lucky this man was that she had forgotten her hunting knife at home. It wasn't until she heard Trevor's wild laugh again and the feeling of the whiskey running down her hand did she realize she had been spacing out for too long.
Trevor watched her with an amused look as she scrambled to clean the mess. "You always struggle with simple tasks or is it because you're too enamored by my charm and good looks?"
Ignoring his statement she began to rub the wooden top down with vigor, she ground her teeth trying to shove down any remarks that could land her into trouble with him or Janet.
"So your name is Trevor then." She asked, trying to ignore the heat going to her cheeks from her careless mistake.
"Good job, Sherlock." He said, adjusting himself so he was leaning up close to her. Elanor hesitantly looked up to him, looking at his eyes she could see the wheels turning in his head as he thought up ways to antagonize her.
"Is this what you like to do with your free time?" She snapped, tossing the rag at him. "Bother people when you're bored?"
Trevor glared down at the rag and flung it off like it was a bug. He looked back at her with a thick eyebrow raised. "And do always treat your customer's like shit?"
Her mouth opened for a comeback but was cut off by Janet who came out to see what the hell was going on.
"Is there a problem?" When Trevor turned around to see her, she shook her head in distaste. "That answers everything. You're supposed to be banned!"
"I'm banned from a lot of things but that doesn't stop me from doin' them." He snorted, taking a mouth full of whiskey.
Janet's eyed him before turning to her employ. "Is he giving you shit, Elanor?"
Trevor slowly turned back to her, giving her his classic shit-eating grin. "Yeah, Elanor. Am I giving you more shit than your pretty ass can handle?"
She really wanted to jump over the counter and knock that smug look on his face. Yet that would be too easy and would mean he would have won, he would have broken her. Elanor's lips twitched into a distorted smile, looking Trevor straight in his dog shit colored eyes.
"No. Not at all." She growled.
She had a feeling as Janet left once more that this would be a long two hours before her shift would end.
Cassandra was sitting at the kitchen island in a worn out violet robe, her short copper hair tucked behind her ears as she mindlessly swirling her tea bag in the dark, cold liquid. She looked up at the kitchen clock to check the time.
2:51 AM.
She yawned and went back to watching her tea bag do laps around her cup, patiently waiting for Elanor to come back.
Despite Wilson trying to coax her into bed but Cassandra insisted on staying up to greet her daughter when she came home. She was nervous to hear how her first day went from Elanor's previous track record with being unlikeable when it came to a job that involved socializing. She still couldn't fathom why she had picked a bar of all places to work where one was expected to be a social butterfly in a way. Cassandra considered it a God sent at this point if Elanor was able to have a friendly conversation with a stranger let alone talk to one without looking like was a chore to even do so. Still though, perhaps it was a step in the right direction. Maybe this job would out of comfort zone, perhaps she might even meet someone...
She lifted her head as the door opened, her daughter walked in rubbing her eyes and letting her hair out of a poorly done bun.
"Hi, honey." Cassandra said in an overly cheery tone. Elanor grunted, barely looking up at her as she tossed her coat down on the couch. Cassandra fidgeted a bit wanting to hear how things had gone. "How as work?
Evading the question Elanor ask her why she was still up? "Don't you have some yoga class in the morning?"
A pang of hurt went through her mother's chest, her smile flat-lining. "I just wanted to see how things went, dear."
Her daughter shrugged. "Fine. Nothing too bad happened." Elanor went to the fridge and pulled out a leftover sandwich and a bottle of water. "It's been a long shift, Mom. I just to eat and hit the sack."
"Oh," Her mother murmured. "Maybe we can talk tomorrow?"
Elanor didn't respond as she walked to her room, locking the door behind her.
Cassandra sat there alone once more, feeling the corners of her eyes begin to sting. She fought back the tears and went to pick up her daughter's jacket, as she went to hang it up Elanor's wallet fell to the ground. Cassandra swore and picked it up, just before she was about to put it back into a pocket she noticed a picture peaking out from the folds of the wallet. Always being one to snoop Cassandra pulled it out without a second thought. What she saw made her blood run cold.
It was an old picture of Elanor and her father, Allen, kneeling down in deep snow in front of a dead elk. Elanor held a hunting rifle in her hand while her father lifted the dead animal's head up by the antlers to show off to the camera. To an outsider, this would look like a normal keep-sake from a father-daughter bonding experience, but to Cassandra, it was another thing to remind her of what she had done to her daughter by leaving her with that...That madman.
Her eyes scanned across the faded faces; Elanor was thirteen in the photo and her brown hair was barely past her jawline and her father looked like a mountain man with his graying brown hair, and nearly black beard. But what really shook her was how identical the cold, harden looks on their faces were. Their dark eyes staring back at her with no sign of any emotion, not even a hint of pride for the trophy they had collected.
Cassandra clapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from letting out a sob. Why did Elanor have this? Why did she want anything to remember that man by? Cassandra's first reaction was to tear the photo up and throw it in the garbage where it belonged. Before she could go through with it the sound of Elanor's door made her quickly shove the picture back in the wallet.
Elanor came back out from her room, she had forgotten to grab her phone from her jacket. As she made her way into the main room she saw her mother holding her jacket in her hand, her eyes rimmed red.
"Mom?" She asked, taking an uncertain step closer. "You...Okay?"
Cassandra nodded, forcing a large, painful smile onto her face. "Yes, sweetie. Everything is fine." She lied.
