Hi, everyone. This is a rewrite of a fic I posted back in 2015 and updated until last year. Some of you may have read it, but for those who haven't, I'll leave the original version up until the rewrite has been completed.

While I'm happy with the response that fic has gotten over the years, there are also a lot of elements in that story that I feel could have been touched up, especially in the earlier chapters. So in this version, I plan to do the following:

* First off, no more 10,000 word chapters. Some of you guys seemed to like it, but those things took me forever to write, and having chapters of that length invited a lot of "dead air" into my prose and dialogue. It also created a huge barrier of entry for new readers, so this time around, I've set a hard limit of 7,000 words per chapter. My ultimate goal in doing this is to make my writing less wordy.

* I'm gonna focus more on the prose and action scenes. I feel like the original had too much dialogue for an action-based game like GTA.

* The "humor" aspect will be toned down significantly - I called it humor in the original, when really it was a bunch of ancient memes and "lol so random XD". I realize now that it was way more obnoxious than funny.

* I'll also try to give the characters more depth, since I don't think I developed the male characters enough. Reading back over it, a lot of the males felt like yes men that accepted Alexia immediately, which I don't think criminals should be doing. It also made Alexia look like a Mary Sue.

* Some plot elements have been changed as well, hence why I'm making this a separate story.

* I'm gonna include more contact missions, heists, and my own original missions and scenarios. In the original, I don't feel like I did a good job of exploring everything GTA Online has to offer, outside of the "old" heists. While the original story took place in the span of about a month, the timeline in this one is gonna be much longer.

* The rating's been changed to M, like it should have been from the beginning.

* And finally, I claimed in my original story that it was the longest GTA fanfic on this website, but that's actually not true. The longest is Concrete Jungle by Onkwehonwe Kashatstenhshera, at over 1.7 million words. I don't know how many people noticed I said that in the original, but I figured I should correct my false statement here. Onkwehonwe deserves all the credit for writing the longest one, and I don't plan for this rewrite to go beyond the length of his fic.

Okay, that's it. I feel like I've improved since I wrote the original, but I guess you guys can be the judge of that. I'm also crossposting this to AO3, so feel free to check me out over there. Otherwise, please enjoy. :)

It was Alexia Knight's first time on an airplane, and she was scared to death.

Somehow, she had outrun the cops back in South Yankton, avoiding what would have been many years in prison for her crimes. She'd been fully expecting to be caught on her way to the airport, and since this didn't happen, doubts had been festering in Alexia's brain for the past few hours. Surely, she thought, it couldn't be that easy to evade justice. Maybe there were police waiting for her, ready to put her in handcuffs as soon as the plane's wheels touched the ground.

It had been nine hours since the flight had left South Yankton. Before sunrise that morning, Alexia had snuck out of her family's trailer and had driven her mom's SUV two hours to the nearest airport, boarding the plane with a fake ID her uncle had mailed to her a couple of days ago. Alexia's uncle, a fugitive from justice for many years, had assured his niece that he could help her lie low. He had even offered her a spot in his crew, the Black Skulls, a group that by all accounts had enough money to go around.

Despite this, Alexia's stomach tightened, and her nerves tingled with anxiety. To keep herself from going mad in the cramped coach cabin, she leaned up to the window next to her seat, touching her fingers to the freezing plexiglass.

The city had come into view several minutes before: Los Santos. The second most populous city in the United States, after Liberty City. She could see glass-paneled skyscrapers, like glowing fingers stretched to Heaven, reaching out of a mass of urban sprawl that was ringed in by mountains on three sides, while the fourth side was battered by constant waves from the Pacific Ocean. Most striking to Alexia was a warm orange light that filled the entire city and bled into the night sky, drowning out the stars with noise. While she knew this was light pollution, it was a welcome sight to Alexia, who had spent the past few hours crossing the blue-black water of the Pacific.

In her twenty years of life, Alexia had never seen the ocean. In a way, the endless horizon wasn't much different from the grassland surrounding her mom's trailer, land she frequently went hunting in with her dad's old .22 caliber rifle. At this altitude though, the horizon had a noticeable curve to it and was clothed by a white haze in the distance, betrayed by a much darker blue to the sky. The sunset had been mesmerizing enough to distract Alexia from her anxiety for a little while. She had finally eaten something, a packet of airline peanuts, and had sipped a can of Sprunk while watching the colors blossom, relishing in what might be her last sunset as a free woman, then fade slowly to black. She had expected to see some stars once nightfall came, but none were visible from the plane window, providing no further distraction from her thoughts.

As the plane traveled over open water, Alexia couldn't help but wonder if huge jets like this were built to make emergency landings with no land in sight. She also wondered how screwed she would be, since she didn't know how to swim.

She blinked hard, trying to rid her tired brain of such thoughts. Alexia knew only one other person in the glowing city just outside her window: her uncle Remus. Despite their shared status as fugitives, Alexia wasn't anything like him - she was just a small-time crook, a liquor store robber, while he ran the most powerful crew of thieves and drug traffickers on the West Coast. He had been trying to get her to join his crew for some time, but she had only accepted this time because the cops had been closing in on her, and she'd had no other options.

As Los Santos appeared out of the endless ocean, some of the other passengers took pictures to post on social media. Others remained enveloped in their Laptops, headphones locked to their ears, trying to finish up their work before the aircraft went in for landing. A couple of children a few rows up from Alexia pestered their mom, who looked half-asleep, telling her how big and pretty it was. Alexia had never been to a big city before, so she could understand the kids' enchantment, but unlike them, she was too nervous to express her feelings outwardly.

Alexia felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. She looked to her right - the middle-aged African American woman seated next to her smiled and pointed up, toward the intercom that was blaring the captain's message for passengers to buckle their seatbelts and prepare for landing. Alexia had completely tuned this message out, having been too distracted by her thoughts. An embarrassed flush of red sprang up on her cheeks as she fastened the belt around her hips, then moved her lap table upright, following the other passengers.

"This your first time visitin' Los Santos?" the woman asked. Alexia hadn't said a word to her for the entire nine-hour flight, having been too nervous to initiate small talk with a stranger.

"Um…y-yeah, first time." Alexia cleared her throat, brushing a mess of black hair from her face.

"I'm sorry, miss, I didn't mean to scare you," said the woman, patting Alexia's shoulder. "I was just visitin' South Yankton for a trainin' class. Los Santos is my home though - always has been."

"N-no, you're fine," Alexia said while looking down at her feet. "W…what kind of training class were you taking?"

"Pelvic floor classes, honey," the woman replied, a proud smile on her face. "I'm lookin' to open a women's center in my home, just as soon as my good-for-nothin' nephew moves out." She suddenly scoffed. "That boy's always drivin' me sick with worry, but these classes have helped let that bad energy out and embrace my femininity." The woman stuck out her hand. "I'm Denise, by the way. Denise Clinton."

"Alexia Natchez," she said, using the assumed identity her uncle had given her as she shook Denise's hand, minding the woman's pink acrylic nails.

"Nice to meet you…Here, you should take this."

The woman slipped Alexia a business card. The card was hot pink and displayed Denise's contact info in a flowing yellow font. Along with this was an illustration of what was clearly a vagina and the group of muscles surrounding it.

Alexia's cheeks lit up like birthday candles. She stuffed the card into her wallet, never intending on looking at it again.

"You know, me and my girlfriends go on spirit walks every week," said Denise. "New-age feminism, honey. It's all the rage in this city, and it really helps build confidence…Give me a call sometime if you're interested, okay?"

Alexia attempted a smile and nodded, her hair falling back into her face. Looking to her left, the lights of Los Santos International Airport whizzed by like headlights as the plane touched down, barely even jostling the cabin. The kids a few rows up started clapping, irking a couple of the other passengers to join in half-heartedly. After such a long flight, most of the plane's occupants looked tired, ready to get out of the cramped coach cabin as soon as possible.

The jet eventually docked at an LS Air terminal. Alexia was one of the last to join the rush of people, grabbing her carry-on bag and departing the aircraft so she could follow some of the other passengers.

Looking around at the terminal, she didn't see any cops lying in wait – if they'd been waiting for her, surely they would've boarded the plane to arrest her. She was already a flight risk, so letting her leave of her own volition seemed an enormous chance to take.

Alexia allowed her shoulders to slump and a deep sigh to escape her lips. Assuming she wasn't arrested in the next few minutes, she was to meet her uncle's contact at the 'Arrivals' terminal. First though, she had to grab her luggage, which she had packed in a hurry that morning, only grabbing the essentials in her bid to outrun the South Yankton police. She hadn't even had time to say good-bye to her two younger brothers, having snuck out of her mom's trailer while they were still asleep.

Her mother, as usual, had been passed out on the sofa, an empty bottle of Logger Light in her hand. To avoid waking her mom, Alexia had tossed her luggage into some bushes outside and had left the trailer on tiptoes, avoiding the places in the floor she knew would creak and stepping over other empty bottles that her mom never bothered to pick up. As she passed by her mom and snatched her car keys, Alexia had remembered all the times she'd been beaten with leather belts and extension cords, how many horrible names she'd been called and how many objects that had been thrown at her during frequent drunken rages. She'd protected her little brothers as best she could, but sometimes she'd gotten to them too. For that, Alexia wouldn't have said good-bye to her mom even if she'd had the opportunity.

As she stood by the baggage carousel, waiting for her scruffy black suitcase to appear out of dozens of shinier ones, Alexia promised herself to write her brothers at some point. Her uncle probably wouldn't like it, but Alexia's brothers were some of the few people that cared for her, and she didn't want them to worry. Besides, she had accepted her uncle's offer of money and power in Los Santos so she could send some of it back to them once she got established. That way, maybe her brothers could go to college and not have to worry about money ever again.

Alexia almost missed her suitcase coming by on the conveyor belt. She stepped forward and grabbed it with outstretched fingers, looking at the ground as if people had noticed her near error and were judging her for it, although the other passengers looked interested only in themselves. She squeezed by a couple of people and in the direction of a sign that said 'Arrivals'. The steady hum of cars outside soon drowned out the screech of jumbo jets, which told her she was heading in the right direction.

Gripping the handle of her suitcase, Alexia tried to congratulate herself: she was doing alright for her first time in a big city airport. However, she knew this was only the first step in what could be a very long journey.

She pushed her way through the glass doors leading outside. Immediately, she felt like she'd stepped into a room full of blow dryers going at full blast. She'd read that Los Santos was in a desert, but if that were the case, she'd expected it would be colder at night. The Sun had set long ago, but Alexia felt like she was melting underneath her black flannel jacket. Her arms quickly began to tire under the weight of her backpack and suitcase, which she'd been carrying for a good distance.

For a moment, she started to miss the snow back in South Yankton, but she knew there was no going back there, possibly ever. Los Santos, a place she never thought she'd be living, was her new home.

Out of a sea of blue and yellow taxis, she spotted a lanky, dark-skinned man leaning on the hood of a black 2004 Albany Emperor. For some reason, he held a bright red rose in his left hand, which he used to signal to her.

"How it do, baby?" the man asked with a smile. "You Alexia, right? The boss's niece?"

"Y-yeah, that's me…"

Alexia set her suitcase down for a moment so she could shake out her tired arms. The man grabbed the handle of her suitcase with his left hand and pulled it towards him, then reached out his right hand, which she promptly shook. Alexia briefly felt him scanning her frame – his eyes fell, like he'd been expecting a more attractive woman, but the man was smart enough to not let this show for long.

"Lamar Davis, baby," he said. "Yo' uncle hit me up the other day, told me his niece was comin' in from South Yankton and he wanted me to pick you up. He don't really get out much these days, but that's a whole other thing…You tired?"

"Yeah, it was a pretty long flight," she admitted, rubbing one of her eyes.

"Well, we gotta do one thing first, to get you initiated in the Skulls – yo' uncle's idea." Lamar put his hands up. "But I'll hit you up about that on the way."

Lamar held the rose to Alexia's face. She took it, studying it a bit in the pale overhead lights of the terminal as Lamar lifted her suitcase into the trunk of his car. She thought it nice for her uncle to give her the rose, even if he hadn't mentioned any kind of initiation in his e-mails to her.

But she supposed it made sense for the crew to initiate new members. The Black Skulls weren't exactly a glee club – they were a group of cold-blooded killers, considered the scourge of the city by both law enforcement and the public. Alexia may have been a thief, but she hadn't killed anyone at those two liquor stores she'd robbed in South Yankton. There was one incident back in her youth, a painful memory of a time where she'd very nearly killed someone, but she preferred not to think about that if possible.

Alexia slung the heavy backpack off her shoulders, placing it next to her suitcase in the trunk. Lamar closed the trunk with a heavy thud, looking at his new crewmate.

"You nervous?" he asked, leaning on his car.

"N-no, just tired," said Alexia, although her shifty eyes immediately betrayed this as a lie.

Lamar smiled a bit. "It's all good, baby. Look, yo' uncle told me to look out for you, get you settled in after the initiation, so don't worry about it. Now, just get in the car - I got some bomb-ass weed in the glovebox if you want some, really calms the nerves."

"No, I'm good on that," said Alexia, shaking her head as she held up the flower. "But tell my uncle thanks for the rose. It's very pretty."

Lamar's eyes popped open. His throat seemed to tighten as he pulled at his collar.

"Y-yeah, yeah, for sho'," he said. "That was definitely yo' uncle's idea – real romantic type, that dude…Yeah."

This managed a brief smile from Alexia. She headed toward the passenger seat and stepped inside, closing the door behind her and placing the rose in the cupholder. Alexia looked around a bit - she didn't know much about cars, but Lamar's ride seemed high-end, with a spacious interior and comfy leather seats. She could tell he had spent a lot of time and money caring for it, even if its nicer features were undercut by a pungent smell, probably remnants of the 'bomb-ass' weed he had mentioned, the intensity of which gave Alexia a headache. She cracked open the passenger side window, her lungs expanding with the hot desert air.

Lamar climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine, which kicked to life with a muted grumble. Alexia buckled her seatbelt as the car began moving, getting on the freeway that led north out of the airport. It was a little slow to get up to highway speed, but Alexia reasoned this was a car built for cruising rather than racing.

The skyscrapers were much closer this time. Being among such tall buildings made Alexia feel microscopic, especially as the car entered the downtown business district. She couldn't help but crane her neck to look up, marveling at the complex engineering that must have gone into constructing the Los Santos skyline.

"Aight, baby, so here's the dizz-eal," said Lamar, leaning back in his seat as he navigated the city traffic. "Our initiation in the Black Skulls is a street race. You ever raced before?"

Alexia shook her head, looking completely taken aback at what Lamar had just mentioned. Sensing the growing anxiety emanating from her, Lamar quickly intervened with a hand wave.

"It's all good though, it's all good. Along with me, you only got one other fool you racin' against. Y'all two are the only new members we takin' on right now."

"Yeah, but a street race…?" Alexia trailed off, putting her hands to her temples as her breath quickened. "I-I don't even have a car, or…!"

"We'll get you a car, don't trip," said Lamar. "You can drive, right?"

"Y-yeah, I have a license, but-"

"Then you know the basics," he interrupted smoothly. "Brake in a straight line, watch for pedestrians, and if you see five-o, drive in the other direction." He shrugged. "Simple. Best part is, you don't even have to win the race to get in the crew – if you cross the finish line and give a good enough effort, you in. The boss really just wants to see how fast you can go, and how good you can handle the traffic. But that bein' said, we play all our races by street rules, so you can play it dirty if you want, ram the other cars and shit and try to take 'em out. I don't recommend it though. Nine times out of ten, you just end up wreckin' yo' car too."

"You're talking about this like it's a Sunday drive or something," said Alexia, shaking her head.

"I wouldn't say it's that, but it is a easy course," he assured her. "No sharp turns, wide open roads, and this a weekday, so not as much traffic. Look, baby, you wanna be in this crew, all of us had to get away from the cops at some point. The better you drive, the easier that's gonna be when the time comes."

"Yeahhh, okay…" Alexia nodded slowly. "Not gonna lie, I would've appreciated a little heads-up from my uncle on this, but I guess it is what it is."

"He prolly just wants to see what you made of," Lamar suggested. "It's been a while since you seen him, right?"

"Yeah…Ten years now." Alexia leaned back in her seat. "I was still a kid when he left for Los Santos to start his own crew. We still talk over e-mail, but we were really close back then."

"From what he told me, I believe that," said Lamar. "Just so you know, baby, he still thinks the world of you, and he wants you to be okay. He wouldn't put you into no suicide mission, man - trust me on that."

Alexia exhaled. A brief flash of emotion crossed her face as she remembered her uncle from years past, the man who had taken care of her and had treated her like his own daughter. However, she managed to swallow these feelings - the last thing she wanted was to display weakness to this guy she didn't even know, or to anyone else in her uncle's crew of hardened criminals.

Over the past ten years, Remus Knight had grown the Black Skulls into the city's most dangerous crew. They were responsible for several mass-casualty events – bank robberies, shootouts, car bombings, even massacres of whole gangs that had refused to pay tribute or had wronged the crew in some way. They even killed cops sometimes; as far as Alexia knew, the Skulls were only crew in the city that were ballsy enough to do this. Rumors abounded that the city government paid into the Skulls' coffers as well, to stop further depletion of its police force.

Through his e-mails, Remus had assured his niece that he could help her succeed, and that there was a lot of money to be made in this line of work. All he'd asked of her in return was that she take up rent payments on an apartment, which he had already signed the lease and paid the security deposit for. Rent in Los Santos was among the most expensive in the country, but he'd assured Alexia she would have no trouble keeping payments in the new career path she'd chosen if she worked hard and didn't give up.

Alexia looked up again at the skyscrapers. One of the buildings was obviously under construction – a giant crane ran up one side of it, reaching up into the thin layer of smog that hung overhead like a storm cloud. As artificial as it all was, the skyline was still breathtaking. If nothing else, it was a far cry from the flat, windswept plains of South Yankton.

Eventually, the car stopped at a red light. Lamar looked around a bit, and seeing no other cars around them, he reached below the drivers' seat. Alexia watched him fumble around a bit until he found what he needed.

"Okay, baby, we outta airport jurisdiction now, so lemme show you somethin'."

A flash of light streaked across Alexia's eyes as she watched him reveal the object in his hand, which was made of blued steel that gleamed faintly in the overhead streetlights. He handed the object to her, and she took it by its black polymer grip, studying it intensely. She immediately noticed that the serial number had been filed off.

"My gift to you," he said with an air of self-satisfaction. "Should be untraceable, but still, you be careful with that."

"Sure." Alexia pressed down on a small plastic piece just above the grip, catching the loaded magazine in her other hand. "Hawk & Little, nine-millimeter semi-automatic. Five-inch barrel, standard twelve-round magazine, sixteen rounds with an aftermarket extension. Slightly cheaper version of a Beretta, but just as reliable…It's a little heavy for concealed carry, but still, not a bad choice."

Lamar was frozen on the spot. Alexia had rattled off those words in a completely different tone of voice, much more confident and somewhat monotone, as if her shyness had been erased by the gun in her hands.

She reinserted the magazine, then cocked the slide back and released it, putting one cartridge in the chamber. She engaged the thumb safety above the grip and looked down the sight, quickly becoming acclimated to the gun's weight in her hands.

"You criminals just carry in your waistband, right?" she asked. "No holster or anything?"

"Y…yeah, yeah, you got it," Lamar said with a tight laugh. "Or just carry it open, whatever works for you…'Ay, how'd you know all that, anyway?"

"I did a lot of hunting back in South Yankton," she said with a shrug. "I'm best with a rifle, but I have experience with handguns and shotguns too. My uncle taught me a lot of skills before he left."

"Shiiiit, baby." Lamar grinned. "I can see why he wanted yo' ass to join the crew now."

Alexia gave a timid smile, shrugging as she studied her new gun. By that point, the car had traversed downtown, coming to the northern part of the city. Steep hills predominated as they drove further from the airport and into downtown Vinewood, closer to the mountains ringing the city in to the north.

Looking up from her gun, Alexia could see the famous Vinewood sign, glowing against one of the tall, black hills up ahead. The sign was a bit smaller than she'd expected, but it added to the unearthly glamor of the city lights, which extended quite a ways up the mountain. She was able to see high-end houses tucked into the crevices of hills and jutting out of sandstone cliffs, allowing celebrities to look down on the lower-income neighborhoods to the south.

"You know, there ain't that many fools in this crew that can shoot all that good," said Lamar, trying to keep the conversation going. "We got a proper arsenal – you know, miniguns, homin' launchers, assault rifles, shit you can just pop off an' still usually hit some fools with. But, since you said rifles…" Lamar scratched his chin. "Once you get settled in, you might wanna see about joinin' the sniper squadron. I don't think there's any openings right now, but down the road, that could make you some paper, baby."

"Maybe. I don't know what my uncle's planning for me just yet," she confessed. "Right now, I just need any income, period."

"And you gonna get that cheese, baby. Trust me." Lamar reached for his car stereo. "'Ay, you like music?"

"Uhh, sure," she said.

"Aight, well, this my shit right here. Check it out."

Lamar bumped up his car stereo to ear-splitting levels, the bass rocking Alexia's brain within her skull. She raised her hands to her ears, not because of the music itself, but because of the the window-rattling subwoofers. The track was an old-school gangsta rap song, which the radio display proclaimed as "What You Wanna Do" by Kausion, featuring Ice Cube.

"Yeaaahh, baby, what you think about this?" Lamar asked while vibing to the song, which had an up-tempo beat, but an aggressive delivery and discordant samples. This gave the track a much darker undertone, painting an abject image of poverty and inner-city crime.

Alexia shrugged. "I don't really listen to much rap!" she yelled over the booming bass.

"Aw, for real?" Lamar exclaimed. "What kinda shit you like?"

"80's metal, mostly!" she confessed. "Love Fist, Mötley Crüe, Iron Maiden, that kind of stuff! My dad had a bunch of records like that, and he left them all to me after he died!"

"Oh…shit, I'm…sorry to hear that." Lamar was immediately rendered sympathetic as he turned the music back down.

"It's okay," Alexia said with a nod, looking down at her feet. "I was just a baby when it happened. But my uncle, he was pretty much the father figure in my life afterwards…My mom didn't really like me hanging out with him, but I snuck away to see him whenever I could."

"That's dope, baby." Lamar patted her on the shoulder. "See, yo' uncle, man, he acts real creepy and intimidatin', but deep down, I knew he had a soft spot." He pointed at Alexia. "I'm bettin' you that spot, ain't you?"

"Well, he was a lot nicer to me than my mom was, in any case," she recalled. "But he made it pretty clear to me in his e-mails that he's not gonna hold my hand through this – he'll help me get started, but I'm gonna need to forge my own path, you know?"

"Oh, for sho' – 'ay, this the meetin' spot right up here." He pointed up the road a ways. "That path you gonna forge is gonna start here in a lil' bit…You ready?"

Alexia exhaled through her nostrils, then looked at Lamar and gave a firm nod, her eyes heavy with anticipation. She saw a collection of cars up ahead, nestled in an elevated parking lot off the main street. However, these weren't the fast cars as she was expecting criminals would want to race in. Most of them were smaller two-door vehicles – coupes, she remembered they were called.

In South Yankton, Alexia had driven her mom's 1995 Declasse Rancher XL, a full-size SUV that could handle the snow-packed winters of the High Plains, even if it liked to break down every other month and consumed a ton of gas. However, Alexia couldn't say this gave her any transferable experience. Snow was very rare in Los Santos, and she was used to driving on county roads with little or no traffic. She had also never raced anyone before, so the prospect of doing so for the first time not only in a crowded city, but in a car that she'd never driven before, filled her nerves with anxious tremors.

However, at that point, she knew there was no turning back. A life of crime awaited her, and as Lamar had said, criminals had to know how to get away from the cops. This was her uncle's method of testing how good she would be in that scenario. She guessed that his lack of warning was probably to see how good she was at thinking on the fly.

If nothing else, she thought, her uncle was very thorough.

Lamar pulled his car into a short path that led up to the parking lot. Alexia could see the other Skulls, most of whom appeared relaxed, socializing and vibing to music that played out of an assortment of car stereos. Quite a few of the Skulls had cigarettes and joints in their hands and were sipping bottles of Pisswasser. A few others were decked out in combat gear and were carrying assault rifles, probably working security for the event. As she looked around, Alexia was surprised at how many people had gathered to watch her attempt to race someone. Perhaps word had gotten out that she was the crew leader's niece.

A couple of the Skulls waved at Lamar as he slid into a parking spot. He waved back, shifting his Emperor into park.

"Aight, baby, let's go get you a car. Any of the ones parked here are yours to take." Lamar waved his hand around the lot. "You wanna pick one out, or you want me to help you?"

Alexia sighed heavily. "Yeah, come with me. You probably know more about cars than I do."

"Then let's get it, baby," he said with a grin. "Follow me. I know just the car that's gonna win this for y'all."

"W-wait, I thought you were racing me too," said Alexia. "You're really gonna help me win?"

"Hell yeah, I got money on this, lil' boo," he said confidently. "Yo' uncle does too, if I remember correctly – ten G's for yo' ass to cross the finish line first."

"Are you serious?!" Alexia's eyes were like saucers. "W…why?"

"Why else, baby?" Lamar shrugged. "He think you can win this, as do I. Now c'mon, follow me for a minute."

Lamar casually climbed out of the driver's seat and shut the door. Alexia disembarked as well, taking her new gun and following close behind Lamar, who seemed to know exactly where he was going. A few of the other Black Skulls laid eyes on Alexia as she passed - she could feel their suspicion piercing through her Midwestern outfit. She wasn't a member of the crew yet, so Alexia reasoned it made sense they wouldn't accept her immediately, even if she was the crew leader's niece.

Something that didn't make sense was why her uncle had bet on her to win, despite knowing she'd never raced before. As leader of the Black Skulls, Remus was one of the richest men in the city, even if most of his fortune was in blood money. Perhaps, Alexia thought, this was just his way of encouraging her from afar. Remus had let her know in his e-mails that he hardly ever left the Skulls' compound anymore due to a bounty that had been set on him a few years back, and so he couldn't meet her in person at her new apartment. She'd written back, telling him not to worry about it and that she would be glad to meet up with him one day at the crew's headquarters, which she knew were in a high-rise building in a place called 'Rockford Hills'.

Alexia let her mind wander for a bit as she walked. Ever since she was paroled from juvenile prison when she was eighteen, Remus had been sending her frequent e-mails. She had been glad to hear from her uncle again and had told him about her struggles with money and finding a job, and Remus had persistently tried to steer her towards crime – in fact, he'd been the one to suggest robbing liquor stores in the first place, even giving her tips on how not to get caught.

He'd also extended several offers over the years for her to fly to Los Santos and join his crew, offers which she'd always declined, as it was a violation of her parole to leave South Yankton. Instead, she had chosen to look for more legitimate work to help provide for her family. Alexia's mother was frequently being fired from jobs for drunkenness, and as a result, there was barely enough money to pay bills and put food on the table each month. Her brothers were growing boys who needed to eat, and Alexia cared about them more than anything. But jobs were scarce in her part of South Yankton, a desolate stretch of grassland miles from any industry, where most of the population scraped by on government assistance.

Remus had taught Alexia how to shoot guns when she was a kid. The animals she had killed and cooked over the years had saved her family money on groceries, even if this was often outdone by what her mom wasted on cigarettes and booze. During their shooting lessons, Remus had always emphasized the importance of never threatening another person unless it was in self-defense. The last thing she'd ever expected out of him was wanting her to get involved in crime.

Alexia knew that someone could change a lot in ten years – she herself had changed a lot in that time. At the same time, she couldn't help but find her uncle's shift in attitude strange. She hoped that when she saw him in person, she would recognize a little more of the man that had been so patient with her growing up, even though she'd been such an anxious and timid child.

Lamar eventually recognized someone he knew and came up to him, Alexia awkwardly in tow. Lamar slapped hands with this new figure, a larger black man whose eyes looked somewhat reluctant to see Lamar.

"Ayy, Gerald, what's happenin' wit it, man?" Lamar chuckled, pulling his friend into a homie's embrace.

"What's crackin', LD?" Gerald said in a baritone voice without much emotion.

"Nothin' much, man – 'ay, this who I was tellin' you about, the boss man's niece. Just got into town today."

Lamar took Alexia's hand, practically dragging the anxious girl over to his friend.

"Alexia, meet Gerald. This the dude who gon' hook you up with some jobs, get you some paper to start out with."

Alexia's hand shot out, her face turning the color of strawberries as she attempted a smile. Gerald took her much smaller and paler hand in his and gave it two quick shakes, sizing up the anxious girl before him.

"Now this girl, he a bit like you, G," said Lamar, clapping his hands on her shoulders. "Antisocial, don't really talk that much, but from what she was tellin' me earlier, she real good with guns. That's all you really need to do one of yo' jobs, innit?"

"Not exactly," said Gerald, looking at Alexia. "Hey, girl, what was your hustle before coming here?"

"R-Robbery." Alexia cleared her throat, forcing herself to look Gerald in the face, although she was visibly trembling. "A-A couple of liquor stores back in South Yankton. I didn't have a crew or anything, I was just kinda winging it, I guess."

"South Yankton…" Gerald repeated, looking interested. "You been into the meth trade up there? I heard it was pretty lucrative for them trailer park boys."

Alexia shook her head, allowing an unsteady smile to cross her lips. "I'm trailer trash myself, but nah, I'm not into drugs…Not for p-personal consumption, anyway."

"Shit, man, this girl right here still untainted," said Lamar. "Like a newborn or some shit."

Lamar pinched the corners of Alexia's mouth, forcing her lips to purse. Alexia made a noise in protest that went unheeded.

"She ain't even partake of the weed in my glovebox on the way over here," he continued. "That's dedication, don't you think?"

"Lamar, stop that shit, man," Gerald said, waving him away from Alexia.

With a disappointed frown, Lamar un-smushed Alexia's face. She immediately withdrew from him, rubbing her flushed cheeks.

"Look, girl, it's good that you know your way around a gun, but that's not going to be enough to take down a drug deal." Gerald pointed at Lamar. "If you let this clown-ass nigga right here just push you around like that, the Ballas and Vagos are going to tear your ass up, if you catch my drift. If you really want to be a gangster, you've got to have a backbone as well."

Alexia nodded, looking down at the asphalt in shame. She'd read a little about the gangs Gerald had mentioned, the African American Ballas and the Hispanic Vagos, both of whom were smaller than the Black Skulls but were prevalent in the city's poorer neighborhoods. Her uncle had told her the Skulls frequently butted heads with these gangs whenever the drug trade took them into their turf, but that the Skulls' superior weaponry often won out. However, she knew that Gerald was right - she would have no chance in Hell of taking on these gangs with her current level of experience.

Swallowing some saliva in her throat, Alexia looked up at him again.

"W-what if I had someone help me out?" she suggested. "I agree with you, I don't have much of a backbone right now, but maybe Lamar or one of the other Skulls could go with me, show me how things are done around here. That way, maybe I could build some confidence in my abilities."

"Hell yeah, baby," Lamar cheered as he sat on the hood of a parked car. "Two heads is better than one, like I keep tellin' my boy Franklin. Now, I got some other gangsta shit I gotta do tomorrow, but if you call up yo' uncle, I know he got everybody in the crew's contact info. I know he could hook you up with somebody that know the streets."

Alexia nodded, her back straightening a bit. "I'm inexperienced, sure, but I'm not stupid," she said to Gerald. "I'll be careful, and I'll also work on growing a backbone…I really want to make something of myself in this crew."

Gerald scratched his chin a bit as he looked her over, but she forced herself to maintain eye contact.

"Alright," he said finally. "Since the boss trusts you, I'm going to take a chance on you, girl. I'll hit you up with the details tomorrow morning, and you go find someone to bring with you…Don't let me down on this though."

"I won't," she said firmly, withdrawing her iFruit phone from her jean pocket so she could put Gerald in her contacts.

She'd gotten the phone, the latest model, for her nineteenth birthday the previous year. It had been shipped to her mother's trailer by an unknown sender, but the return address was a PO box in Los Santos. Having been in contact with him for some time by this point, Alexia knew that the sender was her uncle, although she'd kept this quiet from the rest of her family. She'd told them she'd filled out one of those 'chance to win' surveys on the grocery store receipts, and while she had never been a good liar, her mom and her brothers had bought this story.

After exchanging numbers, Gerald silently nodded at her before walking away, skulking off by himself into another corner of the parking lot. Alexia allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief, her chest feeling much lighter as Lamar came up behind her.

"Damn, baby, you handled that like a gangsta," he said, punching her lightly in the shoulder. "I should know, bein' the lowlife nigga from the streets that I am."

"I appreciate that, Lamar." Alexia smiled while rubbing her arm. "Hey, uh, weren't we gonna look for a car?"

"Aw, fuck!" Lamar looked genuinely disappointed in himself. "My bad, baby. Here, let's go get you a car, man, c'mon."

Alexia allowed her smile to continue as she followed Lamar, the streetlights reflecting a fresh gleam in her eyes. She had secured a job, her very first, assuming she lived through the initiation. However, after the interaction with Gerald, she felt something that had been denied to her throughout most of her life up to that point:

Confidence.

Her shoulders dropped and her back straightened as she walked. In that moment, she felt that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay. She would make some money, then send it back to her brothers so they could go to college. That way, they could get decent careers and wouldn't have to resort to crime to make a living.

She looked up at the skyline, shining brilliantly against the warm black night. Los Santos wasn't quite home yet, but in that moment, Alexia tried to tell herself she could make it her home. If she could survive in this line of work, she could handle just about anything that this hot, crowded, and drug-filled city could throw at her.

Perhaps, she thought, a girl like her was up to the challenge after all.