Trevor Phillips Industries

A Week Later… Monday morning, 9:00 AM; 1112 Boulevard Del Perro

It is a thunderous and foggy morning in Los Santos as heavy rain pours into the streets of the City of Saints. The weather has caused numerous accidents on the streets such as innocent civilians being mowed down by drivers who were trying to make it on their way home or driving to their own destinations such as coke parties, nightclubs and the usual. Amongst the chaos of it all, Thomas Marston was tossing and turning in his bed, sweating under stress due to a nightmare he was having.

Nightmare Sequence

Thomas is in a cemetery at the dead of the night, having just finished burying the graves of the teammates he lost under his command. As he is about to leave the place, the remaining, undead members of his platoon arise out of their buried graves, their decaying faces looking at Thomas seething with anger and hatred. Shocked by what his eyes are seeing before him, he runs towards the entrance of the cemetery, but suddenly trips and fell into a deep, empty ditch.

All of them spoke in unison with an eerie and haunting tone in their heavy voices, "It's your fault that we're dead Thomas! You should have died with us! You should be in Hell burning in ash! Not living while we lay dead in our graves."

"Please, have mercy on my soul! I've done no wrong to you all!" Thomas said pleadingly with tears in his eyes.

"You lead us to our deaths and you will pay the consequences for your actions." The rest of the undead men said in unison. They then each grabbed a shovel and started to fill the ditch for Thomas to be buried under. Thomas then screamed in terror and fear as he could feel his ears, mouth and nostrils being filled by dirt while noticing the ditch getting more and more complete.

(End of dream sequence)

9:15 AM, 1112 Boulevard Del Perro

Thomas woke up screaming in worry and soaked in sweat wearing his black shirt and grey sport shorts. He walked out of his bedroom with his head hanging low in a depressed manner. Feeling distraught over the nightmare scenario he had, Tom walks over to his fridge, grabs a six-pack of Pibwasser and takes it over to the living room to drink. He proceeded to turn on the TV, watching an episode of The Underbelly of Paradise with Steve Haines, the host of the show famed FIB agent.

Already two bottles deep, Thomas then began to make crude mockery of Haines and the show itself, calling Haines "a middle aged pussy who can't seem to get a damn date" and the show calling it "a byproduct of Vinewood's shallow greed and carelessness". Near the end of the episode, Thomas is in a drunken stupor about five bottles into his system. In his mind at that point, the only thing he thought about was drinking himself to the bottom of the bottle, wishing to run away from the flashbacks, relieving himself from the damn pain of reliving those accursed memories.

Wanting to drink more to get away from the stress of it all, Thomas got up from his couch and drunkenly walked towards to his fridge for more alcohol. Unfortunately for him, the pack he had drank was his last one. Displeased with the new development, he decided to walk over to the local Rob's Liquor store he visited during the robbery incident. Thomas walked into the store, stumbling as he walked over to the counter where the clerk was.

The clerk, a middle-aged white male with steel green eyes and bushy red hair kept his gaze on Thomas as he got to the counter.

Thomas brought out his wallet and said to the clerk, "Hey wait just one damn minute! What happened to the clerk who used to run this place?" The clerk shook his head at Thomas. "You didn't hear, did you? The guy quit his job after that robbery that occurred last week. Heard that he didn't want his family worrying over him working at a place that could get robbed two or three times a week. Hell, he's disappointed that not one person nearby came to stop those thieves." The clerk said to Thomas with a poignant tone in his voice.

Thomas blurted out to the clerk, "Hey man, listen. I'm sorry about your friend losing his job and all, but shit happens! We all live to see another day and smell the fresh air outside. Anyway, I'm going to need a six pack of Pisswasser and a bottle of The Mount whiskey."

The clerk looked at Thomas and laughed at him after hearing his demands, "First off, dude. I can smell alcohol on your breath. Second of all- It's pretty evident since I saw you not being able to keep your balance and your speech is slurred. Besides, I'm not letting you take off with any alcohol. How many beers have you had?" Thomas answered with a flushed expression, "Um… I'd say about six beers maybe around eight in the morning." The clerk then threw Thomas a shocked look, "Why the fuck would you be drinking six beers in the morning at a time like this? You should be eating breakfast in your home not like this!"

Thomas made a scowl at the clerk as he slammed his fist on the counter, "Look here, you damn jerk! You're not the poor son-of-a-bitch who has to deal with flashbacks and nightmares about your own men dying under your command while everything goes to hell!" At this point, Thomas's voice starts to break with emotion. "Please, I'm begging you. I've had a shitty morning, just please show some mercy on a broken man."

The clerk looked at Thomas with a feeling of pity. He then asked Thomas about what had happened to him that caused his flashbacks and Thomas gave him some details about what he had went through in Baghlan. The clerk spoke to Thomas with complete honesty, "Well, shit. I can see why you're in the state that you are now. PTSD isn't something people don't look into all the time though. Let me be honest with you, being drunk and wallowing in the past isn't going to help you at all, man. The only thing I will tell you to do is to go to this guy I know, Dr. Friedlander. Had a friend of mine who went through a lot of hell, no thanks to his drunk and abusive father. Fortunately, thanks to years of therapy under Friedlander, he's been doing great and is engaged to the love of his life!"

Thomas sarcastically replied back to the clerk, "Yeah, and then they lived happily ever after till they died." The clerk answered in offense, "Jeez dude. Lighten up a little bit. Are you this cynical or something?" Thomas answered back plainly, "Eh. Depends on the context of the conversation or if there's something that I know that isn't real and is an illusion towards itself like fame or politics. Anyway, I should get going. By the way, give me the guy's phone number." Once the clerk gave Tom, Dr. Friedlander's number, he left the store to contact the locally famed therapist.

Once Thomas entered his apartment, he called Dr. Friedlander about a session. Dr. Friedlander picked up from his end and asked, "Hello, this is Dr. Friedlander speaking. How may I help you today?" Thomas answered, "Yes, uh… This is Thomas Marston speaking. I would like to schedule a therapy session with you tomorrow." Dr. Friedlander took a moment to respond to Thomas's request. "Sure, I have no one coming in on that day and since this will be your first, I will do this free of charge. I don't do that a lot, but given your last name being Marston, I will. I still have a copy of "Red Dead" by your ancestor, Jack Marston. He was incredible with his writing and the storytelling is so amazing!"

Thomas rolled his eyes and sighed, "Sure, sure. I'll visit you this Saturday. By the way, where is your place?" Friedlander replied back to Thomas, "It's a grey condo-looking building by the Pacific Bluffs coastline. Well, I hope to see you later. Goodbye, Mr. Marston." Thomas then dropped the call. He found it funny how much Friedlander had praised his ancestor's book. Thomas personally read the book for an English assignment back when he was in high school, but didn't make much of a big deal about it since it was decades old.

Once he arrived back into his apartment, Thomas decided to take a shower given the fact that he had woken up earlier from the nightmare he experienced. He thought to himself as he showered about how life turned out for him before coming to Los Santos. As Thomas looked back, he enjoyed most of his time in Merryweather until the Baghlan incident. Once Thomas called it quits with the agency due to the mishap, he went back to his apartment in Liberty City since it was the place he went to after College to find work and he wanted the feeling that every graduate had once they finished, Independence.

After returning back to LC, he had trouble keeping average "nine to five" jobs due to experiencing some symptoms of PTSD. Being at the end of his rope and left with a few options, he decided to go into mercenary work for various mafia groups and anyone else who could pay, just wanting to make ends meet and putting his veteran skills to use.

Thomas was the type of guy who believed that if you had problems, you'd have to deal with them yourself. Which explains why he never opened up about his disorder to his family and friends, including almost all the new ones he met in Los Santos (save for Mikaela since he saved her from the douche who stole her purse). As for the criminal work he had entangled himself into, he thought of it as "getting ahead of the rat race" since he no longer wanted to be an average American working for greedy corporations wanting to ride on the BAWSAQ. Thomas also found the new business exciting and interesting, meeting people who could either be friends with you played nice or cut off your tongue if you insulted them.

Once he finished taking his trip down memory lane, Thomas looked into the mirror for a quick moment until he noticed the fact that he was growing a stubble around the areas below his chin and around his jaw, leaving him happy since he had not possessed a beard since leaving Liberty City. Afterwards, he went into his bedroom to change into some clothing. He changed into an outfit that comprised of a yellow and black plaid shirt with a long-sleeved white undergarment, faded dark blue jeans, a black fitted flat bill hat with the words "Los Santos" on the front, a pair of blue and white kicks, and black sunglasses.

Thomas thought about telling the others about his condition despite having some doubts about what they would think. He knew calling Mikaela would be useless since he already told her about his condition when he first met her, so she was out of the discussion. He thought of calling Madison, Austin, Shizuka, Miles, Samuel and Jamila to inform them about his PTSD disorder. At first, Thomas refused to call Samuel, since he considered his behavior as "that of a five-star douchebag" since the time when he insulted Shizuka about her stuttering, along with his "English" comment, but reluctantly decided to as he did not want him being left in the dark. Thomas proceeded to call them to his apartment to inform them about his disorder. After calling them he thought to himself, "It's not easy, but it's now or never. If I'm going to need help, I'll have to be open with the others."

5:00 PM, 1112 Boulevard Del Perro

Hearing the bell ring, Thomas got up from his couch while watching an episode of "Moorehead Strikes Again" and opens the door for everyone he called up. After Thomas closes his apartment door, Madison was the first to speak up. "So, why did you call us here?" Madison asked. Thomas clasped his hands in stress over how they'd receive what he was about to say, "Okay, guys. I've held this from almost all of you, but here goes nothing. I have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder." Everyone looked at Thomas as if they saw him in a new light. "I got PTSD when I served in Afghanistan while I was working for Merryweather Security. I don't want to give away the details of what happened, but let's just say things got fucked up during a mission I was performing and I've suffered from it since."

Austin looked at Thomas in surprise and said to him in concern, "Why didn't you tell us this before? We could have gotten you help at best." Thomas then shouted, "I was afraid! I was afraid that you guys would be judgmental about this shit! You don't know what it's like having to see memories of people that you've worked with dying in front of you and you're the only one living out of the rest of them."

Madison got up from one of the couches in the living room and hugged him as she spoke to him in a sincere voice, "I'm sorry that you had to go through that. We'll be here for you." Thomas gave a smile as he said, "Thank You" to her and everyone else. Samuel approached Thomas and sighed, "Look, I know that I've been a complete dick to you and the others, but that doesn't mean I don't have a soul. Tom, I'm sorry that you're going through PTSD. I've read stories that involved people taking their lives because of it. From what I've seen of you in the line of work that all of us do, you're a good man and it would be a shame if you went out like the way those guys did."

"Thanks for that statement, Samuel. I appreciate the comment, but I don't see myself as a perfect saint. Thomas said as he patted Sam on the back.

Shizuka asked Thomas, "So h-how are you g-going to handle y-your PTSD issue?" Thomas replied back, "It's simple, really. I'll be taking therapy sessions." Jamila asked Thomas with a look of confusion on her face, "Wait a minute? Who are you going to take the sessions from?" Thomas responded with a sheepish smile, "Well, I'm taking them from Dr. Friedlander. You know, the famous psychotherapist who's treated a lot of famous celebrities."

Miles was unimpressed with what Thomas said. "Dude, Friedlander is a greedy bastard who doesn't care about who he treats. The guy only cares about how much you have in that pocket of yours and would rather jerk off to porn than listen to your issues. I'm sorry about that part, but that's why people like him make Los Santos look shitty to America." He said to Thomas with a dissatisfied look on his face. Thomas wasn't surprised by Sam's response. He had heard the same thing from the clerk he had spoken to earlier and thought to himself to see what Friedlander was made of, if he proved to be what the others put him out to be.

Thomas was about to give a response to Miles' response until he got a phone call from an unknown number. "Wait a minute? Who the hell is calling my number?" Thomas said with a look of confusion on his face. The others simply gave a shrug to his question. He decided to answer the phone just to hear what the person on the other line had to say.

"Hello, this is a courtesy call from Trevor Phillips Industries to tell you that you've messed up, very badly. My boss is very angry, and you would really not like him when he's angry." The man with a quirky and nervous voice said. Thomas's face had an expression of frustration as he heard those words being said to him.

"Alright, I got a couple questions for you. One, how the heck did you get my number? Two, who the hell are you to call me at this time. And last, tell your boss to suck a dick through a gory hole." Thomas said to the unknown caller as he paced across the room.

The caller replied back, "Hang on a moment. My boss said that if you say something like that to him in person or if you say that about him indirectly, he'll make sure to smash your head against a tombstone, put your body in a casket and embalm your corpse in acid." Thomas just had his mouth open as he gave a stare to the others that read "What did I just hear?" as he was still on the line.

"He says that you should come to our HQ in Sandy Shores to explain yourself. He also tells me to tell you that you should bring kneepads and mouthwash, not sure what that means, but I would hurry if I were you, which right now, I'm glad I'm not. By the way, I've sent you a photo of our HQ." The caller informed Thomas as Thomas himself looked at the photo.

Austin abruptly asked Thomas about what happened. "So who was the guy that called you? What did he say?"

"You remember that job from last week that involved us stealing that RV for Gerald and fucking up those hillbillies? The guy who runs the meth lab place is pissed at, well mostly me, along with you guys for interfering with his business. Now he wants me to come over to Sandy Shores to explain myself for what happened." Thomas replied in an annoyed manner. Now everyone else was concerned because something like this never happened to any of them.

"Well, shouldn't we come along with you just for protection? Whoever this guy is does not sound good." Jamila inquired. Some of the others nodded in agreement. Thomas made a gesture with his hands that read "NO" for everyone to see.

"What am I, the president of the United States who needs himself protected 24/7 for the rest of the day? Hell no! I'm going there myself to handle this mess. After all, I dragged you, Madison and Austin into the rest of this shit. And somehow indirectly dragged the others into this, which I apologize for as well. Anyway, I should be on my way right now." Thomas said to the others.

Miles inquired, "Wait, before you go. What are we going to do while you're gone?" Thomas replied, "I don't know. Order some pizza or something. But seriously though, I'm going to leave right now." Once that was over with, Thomas entered his garage and left his apartment in his Gauntlet, ready to confront the drug dealer that wanted to have a word with him.

6:00 PM, Sandy Shores

Thomas drove into the trailer town of Sandy Shores to meet the drug dealer whose business he had "messed up". He drove across the railroad tracks and parked next to the trailer home (which was fenced along with another one) the caller had sent a photo of. Before getting out of the car, he took a breath before going outside to face the guy who wanted to confront.

"Oh well. I guess it's time to face the music then." Thomas thought to himself. He walked over towards the door of the trailer home and opened the door. As Thomas walked into the unkempt and dirty inside of the trailer home, a man in his late-40's to mid-50's wearing a cream bucket hat, black glasses, red jacket, white tanktop, khaki shorts, a knee cast on his left leg and a pair of sandals rose up from the couch and alerted the other man in the trailer about Thomas being in the trailer.

"Hey this is… the guy I was talking about." The man said to the other male in the room.

"Yeah, I know who this is Ron, I know who this is." The man said to Ron in a gruff voice. Thomas was thrown aback by this. "Wait, you know my name?" Thomas asked the man.

"Yeah, it's Thomas Marston. And my name of course is Trevor Phillips. But screw the courtesies, just come here. Come here and hold me like you love me." Trevor said as Thomas was slowly walking towards Trevor.

"Son of a bitch, this guy is all kinds of weird!" Thomas thought to himself in a confused manner.

Trevor then covered his crotch as he mentioned that he was getting a semi. He then paced around in anger to Thomas about the situation. "You know why I've been getting a semi, cupcake? Huh? It's not 'cause I wanna fuck you, it's because you have been fucking me!" Trevor shouted as Thomas looked at Trevor like he was put in a mental asylum. Trevor then proceeded to randomly thrust his pelvis towards Thomas as Thomas himself backed away while Trevor shoved Ron after he finished his crude action.

"Now, normally… I have that whole "beggars can't be choosers take anything when it comes to love" type of attitude. But when the love takes the form of someone shitting on my business, I'm not fucking interested! What's your problem huh? Why aren't you scared of me?" Trevor shouted at Thomas.

Thomas made a scowl on his face as he opened his mouth. "Shut up, Trevor! First off all, I understand that you're pissed at me for fucking up your business. I'm sorry about that. My boss, Gerald wanted that RV to enter the meth business since he was already dealing with coke. I just did what was asked of me and I needed the pay. So I gathered a few friends of mine to help me and it was successful. But… never would I imagine being called up by an enraged, meth abusing, drug dealer who lives in a disgusting, shitty trailer and some scrawny excuse of a man who has the voice of an emasculated husband in a horrible marriage! There, are you fuckin' happy now?!"

Trevor walked up very close to Thomas as he gave him a cold stare. "You know, I would kill you right now where I stand… But I can see you have some pretty, hefty balls! Might even have to look at them some other time to see how they compare with mine." Trevor said as Thomas gave off a disgusted look on his face with his hands in his pocket.

"However… You come here after all the trouble you've caused, I want you to get out there right now and start taking care of all those businesses you and your friends fucked over, especially mine! Now get going, get to work." Trevor commanded as he shoved Thomas outside of his trailer. Thomas couldn't believe of what he had gotten himself into. Simply by stealing just one RV from the hands of hillbillies, it resulted into meeting a man like Trevor, who he considers something of a combination of a weirdo and maniac. Feeling tired of what had just occurred, Thomas had decided to leave for his apartment, ready to move on from the meeting he had with Ron and Trevor.

"Note to self. Never steal an RV from the hands of a meth-smoking maniac or else he'll hump at you and will try to threaten your own life." Thomas thought in a peeved manner.

7:00 PM, 1115 Boulevard Del Perro

Thomas arrived at his apartment with the intentions of seeing if the others were still in his apartment, doing whatever in his abode. Once he opened the door, he saw everyone still there, albeit eating pizza, fast food courtesy of Up-and-Atom and guzzling soda.

"You guys have been here for an hour while I was gone? And I thought I was a lazy bum during the past four years of High School." A surprised Thomas said.

"Well, you said it yourself before, we could either leave or order something. Also, we invited a couple of friends we knew of and let them stay for a while, but they left a while ago before you came back. Plus, we were waiting for you dude." Miles informed Thomas.

Thomas stretched his arms for a moment while yawning. "Well, that's nice of you guys, but I haven't eaten anything yet so pass me a slice of that pepperoni." He asked of Miles.

Miles then remembered about Thomas mentioning about his trip to Sandy Shores. "Hey so what happened when you went down to Sandy Shores? Who's the drug dealer?" Miles questioned Thomas with a sense of curiosity.

"Oh, you're going to enjoy this. Turns out, the guy's name is Trevor Phillips and he is a complete maniac. He's a guy who has the mind of one of those criminal psychopaths, the mind of a disturbed pervert and has the anger of a raging bull. Anyway, back to what I was saying. He has an associate of his named Ron, who's a complete pussy if I must say so myself and turns out he's been running this meth business called Trevor Phillips Industries in Sandy Shores. And now he wants me, along with you guys to fix the damage we wreaked upon him." Thomas explained to everyone in the room.

"Wow, we really must have fucked up his day then we stole that RV. At least we got paid." Madison included into the conversation.

Thomas sighed as he grabbed another slice. "Hell yeah." Jamila gave her piece into the convo, "Well, whatever he wants you to do from today, just hit us up. He can't be all that bad." Thomas laughed at Jamila's statement. "You might be wrong about that, Jamila. Just wait till you meet him yourself." Jamila laughed and nodded her head in agreement.

The rest of the night from then on was a small party of cable television, fast food, marijuana and good feelings.

Hey guys, Tom The Author here. I know the rest of you guys have been waiting for a chapter from me for quite sometime, but I've been experiencing some turmoil in my life recently; I've had some trouble finding a job and there are some personal issues that I've been dealing with for a while. Due to that I wasn't able to fully work on this chapter for a while. I also apologize if it is not up to par with some of the other chapters that I've done before. If there are any inconsistencies, please let me know. I'm not the best writer in the world, so let me know what you want to see more in the story because even I can gloss over some stuff. The final flashback will be shown during Thomas's therapy session with Dr. Friedlander and will reveal what happened in Baghlan. The next chapter will feature the first mission for Trevor, which is known as "Romance Isn't Dead". Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'll try to update some more as time goes on. Peace out.

-Tom The Author