You ended up spending the night. You were too tired to fight anymore. All you needed was rest. Trevor lent you an oversized ratty-looking Love Fist band tee and cleared off his bed for you to sleep in. He spent the night on the couch. You slept so soundly that it was almost as if you were actually dead.

It was noon when a voice you had never heard before woke you up.

"Excuse me, nice lady," a man's voice with a very distinct lisp whispered politely. You opened your eyes to see a man wearing baggy clothes, facial piercings, dreadlocks, and his face painted like a clown. You instinctively pulled the blanket up to your chin.

"Who are you?"

"I'm a friend of Trevor's. My name is Wade. I'm sorry if I frightened you," his voice was soft and almost child-like.

"Alright… I'm [y/n]."

"Trevor is out doing some business stuff or whatever but he told me to tell you that he'll be back within the hour. He, uh… also told me to get you this."

You almost didn't notice the cup of coffee and pack of a dozen donuts in his hand. He put the donuts on the bed and handed the coffee to you. You took a whiff of the strong coffee and the scent alone woke up your senses a bit.

"Oh, um… Thank you," He offered you a warm grin. You peered behind him from where he was standing at the door of the bedroom, "How did you get in here anyways?"

"Trevor usually leaves the door unlocked."

Your eyes widened in shock, "Wait, but what if someone breaks in?"

"They won't. No one really wants to mess with Trevor or get on his bad side."

You nodded in response. You wondered what he meant by that. Were people afraid of Trevor? Should you be afraid?

"So, yeah, Trevor will be back soon. I'll see ya, miss."

"Thank you," you said as he left out the door. And just like that you were alone again in this place you've never been before. You just sat and enjoyed your breakfast.

It was an hour and a half before Trevor came barging through the door. He turned to the bedroom and looked at you, still clad in his shirt and reading some magazine you found on the floor.

"You're still here," he said. His tone sounded surprised.

"Yup, I'm still here. Thanks for the breakfast, by the way."

He ran his fingers through his hair, "It was no problem. It's the least I could do after that shit show last night."

You nodded and pursed your lips, "Yeah…" You flipped open the top of the box of donuts, "You want some donuts? I only had two."

He nodded and sat down at the foot of the bed, grabbing a donut and practically inhaling it. You flipped a couple more pages of the magazine in your lap before closing it and setting it down beside you.

"Why did you stop me yesterday?"

He licked the powder from the donut off of his lips before speaking, "Because I get you. You don't need to die. Not yet anyways."

"What do you mean you get me?"

"Because I've been there," you stared at him, waiting for more of an explanation, "Nearly ten years ago, my life hit an all-time low. I lost two of my closest friends, on top of that, my dreams of being in the air force were shot because I was apparently too much of a loose cannon, and my family is either AWOL or dead. I was like, fuck, what's the fucking point of being alive anymore?"

You nodded slowly, "Wow… So, what happened?"

"Not important. I'm still here. I'm the founder of my own company, I own my own airfield, I made new friends, and I fulfilled somethings that I thought I'd never do. And you know what? All that shit wouldn't have happened if I pussied out all those years ago and took my own life."

"Well…" you looked for the right words to say, "I'm glad it all worked out for you."

He turned to look at you and grabbed your hand, "Look, [y/n], you're young. Seeing you yesterday was like looking at a mirror and seeing myself from ten years ago. I couldn't let you get fucked up by a train. I see a lot of people die and I wasn't about to let you be one of them. You don't deserve it."

You didn't know what else to say. You pursed your lips and looked down at your lap.

"You can say thanks, you know?"

You gulped and very quietly whispered the words, "Thank you."

"It's a start. You'll mean it someday," he patted a hand on your thigh, "Come on, get up and get ready."

You pushed the blanket off of you, "Why? What's going on?"

He stood up and headed toward the door of the trailer.

"You and I are going to go out. I'm going to make you want to keep going."

"Where are we going?"

Trevor turned down the radio to reply, "Have you ever flown before?"

You thought to yourself, "Once, when I went to Florida with my family when I was nine."

"Well, today is going to make it twice."

You raised your eyebrows, "You're taking me flying?"

"Yup."

You nodded and exhaled to relax. You tried not to make it very obvious that you were nervous. When you both arrived at the airfield, you exited the truck and he led you toward a black helicopter. As you entered the passenger side, he carefully and securely strapped you in. You looked at him as he tugged on the straps, making sure they were tight enough.

"Trevor, I don't know about this. I mean, what about my arm? I really don't think—"

He let out a little laugh, cutting you off mid-sentence, "Come on and live a little. You have to do something to get your heart racing sometimes. Your arm will be fine. Not to mention, I'm really good at flying," he must have suspected you were still hesitant by the look in your eyes, "Do you trust me?" You both locked eyes for a moment before you replied with a nod, "I won't let you die."

He slammed the door of the helicopter and entered on his side. He strapped himself in and turned on the chopper. The propellers above began whirring. You took a deep breath and held it as Trevor ascended the both of you.

Trevor glanced at you, "Breathe, [y/n]. You'll be alright."

You started breathing very slowly. You hesitantly looked out the window. The world seemed… limitless. Trevor's voice shook you out of your trance.

"Where to, sweetheart?"

You turned to him, "I, uh… um…" you thought for a moment, "How about the Vinewood sign?"

He scoffed, "That's it?"

You frowned, "What? You asked me a question and I answered it."

"You don't have any better ideas?"

"Fine, you pick a place then."

"Gladly."

Then, you were off. He flew toward the city as you gazed out the window in awe. Everything looked so small… the buildings, the people, the cars. You wish you could just stay in the air forever and leave your problems on the ground.

"You have a beautiful smile," he said, "It's a damn shame you aren't happy all the time."

You thought about rejecting the compliment but decided against it and offered him another thankful smile.

Minutes passed by until he landed on the roof of the Maze Bank and got out of the helicopter. He went to unbuckle you from all the different harnesses of the seat and helped you out of the chopper.

"Are we allowed to be up here?" you asked.

"Probably not, but don't worry about that right now, just take it all in," he responded and gestured grandly at the view.

There you stood on the highest building in Los Santos. The view took your breath away. You saw everything from airplanes taking off from LSIA, to the Vinewood Sign. You forgot how beautiful the city was.

"Wow…"

"Are you glad you came?" Trevor asked, examining your expression.

"It makes my problems seem so… small."

He nodded, "That was the idea, yes. But isn't it also nice that since you did off yourself, you now have a new experience under your belt?"

He was right. You just needed to view life from a new perspective. Not a perspective of hopelessness but one of boundless possibilities. You didn't reply. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

You continued to enjoy the view. Minutes passed by when you finally spoke to him.

"We should probably head out. I don't want to get into any trouble by being here."

"Okay, Miss Goodie-Two-Shoes. Here, get in. Let me strap you in."

You took one last look at the cityscape before heading toward the helicopter.