Chapter 3: The Three Amigos

Franklin woke up the next morning, his head hurt slightly but nothing he couldn't handle. He sat up and looked around, he was in the spare bedroom at the De Santa house. He was in his clothes, and he felt around his pockets for his stash. Franklin found the stash in his left pocket of the shorts, he stood up and exited the room. He walked across the hall to Tracey's room, she left the door open slightly and Franklin spotted her naked getting dressed. Franklin watched a few seconds before continuing on to Jimmy's room, Jimmy was sitting there playing Righteous Slaughter. Franklin walked in the door, Jimmy noticed him and sat up. "Hey, man." Jimmy said. "What's up Jimmy? Wanna smoke?" Franklin asked Jimmy. "Hell yeah." Jimmy replied. Franklin packed the bong, and lit it. The two passed the bong back and forth, smoking the medical that Franklin had.

Tracey walked in the door, she wore her usual attire and her hat and shades. "Good morning, Franklin." She said with a smile. "Good morning." Franklin replied. Tracey sat in between the two and took the bong, she hit it a few times before standing up. "You still wanna drive me to the studio?" Tracey asked Franklin. "Yeah, for sure.": Franklin replied. The two walked out of the room, Michael walked out of his room wearing golfing clothes. "Hey, Franklin. Me and Trevor are going golfing. You wanna come?" Michael asked Franklin. "I'll meet you there, man. I'm gonna drop Tracey off at the studio." Franklin replied. "Okay, we'll see you there." Michael said before walking down the stairs. Franklin and Tracey exited the mansion, they got on his bike and drove off. Tracey had her arms around Franklin, which Franklin liked the feeling of. "So, where do I drop you off at?" He asked her. "My trailer is in the southwest part of the studio, drop me there." Tracey replied.

Franklin pulled up into the studio, the guard stopped them at the gate. "Do you have business here?" He asked Franklin. "Paul, it's me. Tracey De Santa." Tracey told the guard. "Oh, my apologies Mr. De Santa. Go right in." The guard said opening the gate. "He doesn't know my work, he is just afraid of my dad." Tracey told Franklin. Franklin rode the bike inside of the studio, he drove Tracey to her trailer where he parked. Tracey got off the bike and looked at Franklin. "So, you and my dad are hanging out?" Tracey asked Franklin. "Yeah, he likes me pretty good." Franklin replied. "Good." Tracey said. The stagehand walked over to Tracey, he was in a rush. "You're needed on set Ms. De Santa." He told her. "Well, I gotta go. Don't be a stranger." Tracey told Franklin. "Nah, you know that." Franklin replied. Tracey walked to her trailer, once again shaking her tail to tease Franklin. Franklin started the bike and left the studio.

An hour later, Franklin rolled up to the country club, Michael had recently purchased it our of his billion dollar account. Franklin was wearing golf clothes, he dismounted his bike and walked in the door. The doorman stopped him, and Franklin looked at him angrily. "Sorry, members only." The man told Franklin. "Motherfucker, I am a member." Franklin replied with hostility. Franklin showed the man his card, the man cleared his throat and coughed. "I'm so sorry, go ahead in." The man told Franklin. Franklin walked in the door, Michael and Trevor were at the bar drinking a beer. "Franklin!" Michael shouted across the room. Franklin approached the two, they started talking. "You ready to have your ass handed to you in golf?" Trevor asked Franklin. "Shit, good luck with that." Michael told Trevor. "Enough, let's go play a round." Franklin told them. They walked outside, and got into their golf carts. They drove to the first hole, and got ready.

The three played nine holes, Franklin had a lead by one point over Michael. Trevor was dead last and getting frustrated, he had already threw several clubs and knocked a man out with a ball. The balls were at the green, Franklin got his putter ready. Franklin hit the ball, which just came short of the hole. Michael laughed and readied for his own putt, he hit the ball and it went in. Michael was two hits before par, which made him the winner against Franklin in the round. Franklin wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked at Michael, Trevor got pissed that he lost. He grabbed the bag out of the back of the club cart and threw it into the pond. "I hate this fucking game anyway!" Trevor shouted. "Calm down, T. I tell you what. Franklin can buy us a couple rounds at the bar. Help you forget your loss." Michael told Trevor. "Fine, let's go." Trevor replied. The three went back to the bar, where they had a few rounds of shots and some beer.