San Andreas was a big place. A very big place. Driving around through the desert took hours. Times like this meant naps on the road or conversation.
Between the weirdo with questionable morals and the drug dealer with issues, neither were tired.
Martin, while driving through rough traffic, decided it was time to learn more about his associate as they entered the desert.
"So, who was that you were talking to?" He asked, hoping William would be calm about it.
"Just my girlfriend. Why?"
"I'm bored and there is nothing else worth listening to right now aside from you."
William decided to humor him.
"Well, her name is Candi."
"Like 'Candi-with-an-I' kinda candy?" Martin questioned, legitimately confused as to if she had a ridiculous name like 'Candi.'
"Yes, 'Candi-with-an-I' kinda candy. She didn't pick her name."
"Ouch! What kinda parents do that?"
"The kind who thought she would either be a stripper or a hooker. She isn't either by the way!" William spoke, raising his voice in defense of his girlfriend.
"I never said she was. Calm down man. We have a word for people like you back home." Martin responded, deciding to contribute a bit of wisdom.
"Oh, what's that?"
"Insecure!"
"Oh fuck you! I will shoot you if you really think your funny!" William said, trying to act tough.
"It's not funny, just true."
William stopped and tried to breathe. He realized that this dickhead from the smoggy high and mighty Liberty was correct.
"Hey, why are you going all quiet on me?" Martin asked, hoping to continue the conversation.
"Sorry, just trying not to do something stupid."
"Well, back to the previous topic. How long have you been with Candi?"
"Around seven months. We met in Las Venturas. I was traveling at the time, looking for the right place to settle and start dealing."
"Why were you in Las Venturas?"
"Lot's of assholes with too much money. Only problem is I had the wrong product for that market. They like to snort and shoot their money instead of smoke it."
"Ah! The signs that say 'You have too much money and not enough brain cells!'"
William could only chuckle at a memory he had.
"There was this one guy. He bought three ounces from me and, I shit you not! He just sprinkled some coke on it, mixed it together, and rolled the fattest joint I have ever seen!"
"Did he die?"
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" William was shocked at this question.
"Probably a lot of things. But did he die?" Martin responded, too curious to count as normal.
"No actually. He lit the thing and walked into a casino, and just went around like a ghost for the next few days. He is actually how I met Candi." William said, beginning to unlock his phone and go through his pictures.
"Really? The chances of that are just... Out there."
"Yeah, he came straight to me when he sobered up. It was around 2 at night and he was going on about needing some food, and this one diner that had THE best pancakes."
"I might need to go to this diner then." Martin interrupted, thinking with his almost empty stomach.
"He dragged me there, saying I had to try 'em. After we get there and get seated I see this waitress with freckles and dark red hair. Candi." William spoke, dazed by the memory.
"Okay, what about after that?" Martin pushed, turning down the radio.
"She was just about to end her shift and I had been chatting for half an hour. The guy had left and paid for the meal. So she says she was working to save up to move out of her partents house and go live it up as a painter." William continued.
"So, after that?"
"I said I was about to move to Los Santos and she has an older brother in Los Santos she can live with for a while. After a week of dates from there, I rented a car and we just drove!" William finished the story, happy to be where he was.
"Alright, you got someone to live for! Sounds like a good situation." Martin said, hoping his enthusiasm would be encouraging.
"Really? That's how you respond to me talking about someone I care for?" William questioned, angry about this half-hearted response.
"Well I'm sorry for driving and navigating and trying to make sure we can trust one another before we go and probably die." Martin explained, hoping that this would make William empathetic.
"You wanted to drive anyway!" He shouted, leaning on the window at this point.
"Hey, uh, is it east from here?" Martin asked.
At this point they were lost and really only ten miles north of Los Santos.
"Let me check." William answered, pulling up a map on his phone.
"It was by a bar in Sandy Shores." Martin explained, hoping to be of some help.
"Yup, East. But anyway, if we survive, when you meet her just don't bring up her height." William continued, going through pictures of Candi and himself.
"Why? Is she tall?" Martin queried, curious, and looking for an exit from the highway to go east.
"No, she's actually four feet and nine inches tall. Below average height." William explained, showing a picture of him and Candi together.
"Woah! That is a surprise. Curvy though, I see you have taste!" Martin exclaimed.
"Yeah, yeah. Just try to act normal when the time comes."
"Hey, after a few jobs with me, you can buy a nice new car for yourself and her. Just relax."
"If you say so." William finished, checking the time.
It was around three o'clock. He was hoping this job wouldn't take long. His apartment was a mess, and he needed to get back early to clean it.
He decided to check his gun, a Glock17. Chambered in nine millimeter and holding seventeen hollow points. Recently oiled and cleaned.
He felt ready for this. He hadn't needed this gun for a while aside from intimidating a buyer away from a bad decision.
"Well, you gonna question me or not?" Martin asked, completely derailing his train of thought.
"Sure, uh, how old are you?"
"Twenty-one, how about you?"
"Twenty. You said you were from Liberty, right? What was growing up there like?"
"It was harsh. I was the only kid who wasn't in the right neighbouhood for his heritage."
"Elaborate, I'm curious."
"Well I grew up in a catholic orphanage. Most catholics there were either Italian or Irish. I am Spanish and some Slavic by my genetics. Father was a Spaniard who disappeared before I was born."
"Oh, that must've been harsh."
"Yeah, but my mother was the slav. She died during my birth. After that, I pretty much lived at the church, worked there, and went to the local private catholic school too."
"Really? What, no creepy father tried to 'teach you how to pray proper?'"
"No, the church members actually raised me rather well. Father Jason did drink a bit though."
"Oh? What was he like?"
"He pretty much adopted me. Gave me his surname, 'Barlow.' Taught me how to fight too."
"Really, a priest that knew how to fight?" William couldn't believe his ears.
"He said it was for 'personal crusades' and real ones alike! Funny guy."
"Well, continue on."
"Okay,just gotta..."
Martin stopped talking, rolled down his window and stuck his head out.
"ASSHOLE IN THE COP CAR!! PUT THE BOTTLE DOWN!!" He screamed at the nearby patrol car.
The sheriff had been caught drinking and driving. While on patrol as well.
"PLEASE GO ON BREAK FIRST, OFFICER!!" He finished before pulling himself back into the driver's seat.
The sheriff was too embarrassed to do anything but pull over.
"Really?! Your gonna get us arrested!!" William exclaimed.
"Nah, just hate hypocrites. He won't do anything."
"Well back to the story then!"
"Alright. After I turned twelve, some thugs tried to force the church to pay protection. Father Jason didn't need it and proved exactly that."
"How so? Did he kill one of them?"
"He almost did, until the local Irish crew came in. The McReary family. They dragged those asshats outside to protect them and the church, more than the Father. One of them never walked again after that." Martin explained, reminiscing about that fond memory.
"Holy shit." William balked at the idea of a priest crippling someone.
"More like 'Holy beating,' that was a good day."
"Well, what happened to your life after that?" William probed.
"I was learning about kickboxing and wrestling. A few kids my age thought I was a pushover, and jumped me."
"Is that when Father Jason saw your bruises and decided to teach you?"
"No, before that. But when they came at me, I flipped their leader, then gave a roundhouse kick to the second guy!" Martin laughed hartily at the memory of his first fight.
"So what after that?"
"The other two just froze and ran. They almost got beaten up by some church going kid."
"Haha, I knew I was in good hands!" William felt a wave if relief at the thought of a good fighter in his corner.
"After I got into highschool, everyone wanted to go round for round with the orphan. I might've always been wiry, but I always went for the throat."
"Anyone important from back home?"
"Important? Just the people at the church."
"Where there nuns?" William probed, deciding to ask the important questions.
"Yes, of course there were nuns."
"Did the Father ever have some 'fun' with the nuns?"
"Now wait a minute! I thought the same thing, but found no evidence." That man is clean as a whistle, except for his liver."
"Really? So what, you too?"
"Oh, no. There were a few girls who wanted me, but only for status. One though, she grew up in a protective house, and was a church girl."
"Oh ho ho. How did that go?"
"After Highschool, she joined the convent."
"Aw what the fuck? How do you do that?"
"We never seriously dated, she was a close friend of mine though. I only left Liberty becuse I felt confined, wanted to be independent. But mainly because I didn't want to be a priest." Martin explained, slowing the car.
"Hey, William, isn't that the bar?" He questioned.
"Same one from that Gerald guy's description."
"Alright, we're close!" Martin yelled, excited to work.
"Hey, before we get there, back to this church girl!"
"Alright. During our time as students, we did date. She was sweet. Great everything about her."
"Okay, so what about after that?"
"We decided to hold off until after 'we figure ourselves out' to get back together.
"So never?"
"No, I was the one who brought it up. I was a real sadist back then. The Father thought it was because of a lack of satisfaction or being power drunk from the fighting."
"You? A sadist?"
"Yeah, I did some gross things. Fed one guy his own finger for trying to get handsy with me."
"Oh shit that IS gross!" William felt his stomach lurch a bit at hearing this.
A. N. I am trying to write more frequently. Constructive criticism is welcome. With this chapter, I was trying to give Martin and William more back story and personality. Dialogue between them could mean they grow closer as well.