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 would be doing.
* 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. She was twenty years old, and she was scared to death.
Somehow, she'd outrun the cops back in her home state of South Yankton. 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 agonizing hours since the flight had left South Yankton. Before sunrise that morning, Alexia had snuck out of her family's trailer, where she'd lived with her mother and her two younger brothers. She'd then driven her mom's SUV two hours to the nearest airport and had boarded the flight with a fake ID, which had been provided by her uncle. Alexia's uncle was a fugitive himself, and he'd assured his niece that he could help her lie low. He'd 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 insane 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, San Andreas. 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. 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'd spent the past few hours crossing the blue-black water of the Pacific.
Alexia had never seen the ocean before. In a way, the endless horizon of the water wasn't that much different from the grasslands surrounding her trailer, land she'd enjoyed 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'd 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. She'd expected to see some stars once night fell, 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 airliners like this were built to make emergency landings with no land in sight. She also wondered how screwed she would be if something happened, 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'd been trying to get her to join his crew for some time. She'd only accepted this time because the cops had been closing in on her, and she'd had no other options besides prison.
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 plane 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 droning the captain's message for all passengers to buckle their seatbelts and prepare for landing.
An embarrassed flush of red sprang up on Alexia's cheeks. 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.
"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." The woman patted 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 avoiding eye contact. "What kind of training class were you taking?"
"Pelvic floor classes, honey," the woman replied proudly. "I'm lookin' to open a women's center in my home, just as soon as my good-for-nothin' nephew moves out." She 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. She shook Denise's hand, minding the woman's long, 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 in 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 in 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 ready to disembark as quick as they could.
The jet 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 the terminal, she didn't see any cops lying in wait – if they'd been waiting for her, she thought, surely they would've boarded the plane to arrest her. She was already a flight risk, so letting her disembark of her own volition seemed an enormous chance to take.
Alexia let her shoulders slump as a deep sigh escaped 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 had time to say good-bye to her two younger brothers, who were sound asleep when she'd left.
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. She'd left the trailer on tiptoes, avoiding the places in the floor she knew would creak and stepping over the empty bottles 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 in drunken rages. She'd protected her little brothers as best she could, but sometimes her mom had 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 actually cared for her, and she didn't want them to worry. Besides, she'd accepted her uncle's offer of money and power in Los Santos so she could send some of it back home to them. Her ultimate hope was that her brothers could go to college and not have to worry about money ever again.
So enveloped was she in her thoughts about home that she almost missed her suitcase rolling by on the conveyor belt. She lurched 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.
She started to miss the snow back in South Yankton. But realistically, 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 with a smile.
"How it do, baby? 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 felt him scanning her frame – his face briefly 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. 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 the flower and studied it in the pale overhead lights of the terminal. She thought it was 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 in those two liquor stores robberies 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.
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 and looked at his new crewmate.
"You nervous?"
"N-no, just tired," said Alexia, although her shifty eyes betrayed this as a lie.
Lamar smiled. "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." Alexia shook 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 tugged at his collar, his smile wavering on his face. "Y-yeah, yeah, for sho'. That was definitely yo' uncle's idea – real romantic type, that dude…Yeah."
This managed a brief smile from Alexia. She headed to the passenger seat and stepped inside, closing the door behind her and placing the rose in the cupholder.
Alexia looked around a bit at the spacious interior. She didn't know much about cars, but she could tell Lamar had spent a lot of time and money caring for his, even if the clean interior was undercut by a pungent smell, probably remnants of the 'bomb-ass' weed he had mentioned. Feeling a headache coming on, she cracked open the passenger side window, her lungs expanding with the hot desert air.
Lamar climbed in the driver's seat and started the engine, which kicked to life with a muted grumble. Alexia buckled her seatbelt as Lamar merged into the line of cars heading out of the airport and towards the city.
Alexia felt microscopic as the car entered the downtown business district. The skyscrapers were directly overhead. She couldn't help but crane her neck to look up at them, marveling at the massive feats of human engineering looming just outside her window.
"Aight, baby, so here's the dizz-eal," said Lamar, leaning back in his seat. "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 said. Lamar noticed this and moved quickly to interject.
"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 put her hands to her temples. "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. No sharp turns, wide open roads, and this is a weekday, so not as much traffic. Look, baby, you wanna be in this crew, right? All of us had to get away from the cops at some point."
"Yeahhh, okay…" Alexia nodded. "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 flash of emotion crossed her face as she remembered her uncle from years past. He had taken care of her, 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 had the balls 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 he could help her succeed. All he'd asked of her in return was that she take up rent payments on an apartment, which he'd 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 if she worked hard and didn't give up.
Alexia looked up again at the skyscrapers looming overhead. One of the buildings was still under construction – a giant crane ran up one side of it, reaching up into the thin layer of smog that hung like a storm cloud over the whole city. As artificial as it all was, the skyline was breathtaking. It was certainly 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 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 the serial number had been filed off.
"My gift to you," said Lamar. "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." She looked him in the eyes for the first time. "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.
"You criminals just carry in your waistband, right?" she asked him. "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 replied. "I'm best with a rifle, but I have experience with handguns and shotguns too. My uncle taught me a lot of things 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 and into northern Los Santos, where steep hills predominated.
Looking up, she could see the famous Vinewood sign, glowing ghost-like against one of the tall, black mountains up ahead. The sign was smaller than she'd expected, but it added to the unearthly glamor of the city lights, which extended quite a ways up the mountain. Several high-end houses were tucked into the hills around the sign, 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. "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…" He 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."
"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 in her skull. She clamped 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 bobbed his head 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!"
"Aw, for real?! What kinda shit you like?!"
"80's metal, mostly! 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 sympathetic as he turned the music back down.
"It's okay," said Alexia. "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 all 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. A collection of cars was 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 only ever drove one car: her mom's 1995 Declasse Rancher XL. This was 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. Not only did it rarely ever snow in Los Santos, she was used to driving on county roads with little or no traffic. She'd also never raced before, and 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.
But at that point, she knew there was no turning back. A life of crime awaited her, and as Lamar had explained, criminals had to know how to get away from the cops. She guessed that her uncle's lack of warning was probably to see how good she was at thinking on her feet. 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, 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. "Yeah, come with me. You probably know more about cars than I do."
"Then let's get it, baby." Lamar grinned. "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 climbed out of the driver's seat. Alexia disembarked as well, taking her new gun and following close behind Lamar.
A few of the other Black Skulls laid eyes on Alexia as she passed. She could feel their suspicion piercing through her cheap Midwestern clothes, even if she was the boss's niece. Everything she'd read about the Skulls suggested they were rather insular, so it made sense they wouldn't accept her immediately, familial relations be damned.
Something that didn't make sense was why her uncle had bet on her to win. He had to have known she'd never raced before. 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 because of a bounty that had been placed on him a few years back. She'd replied 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 as she walked. Ever since she was paroled from juvenile prison when she was eighteen, Remus had been sending her frequent e-mails. She'd always found it easy to talk to her uncle, a man who had always loved and supported her no matter what.
In their long conversations, Alexia had let her uncle know about her struggles with money and finding a job. She'd never requested money from him, but he would sometimes wire her some cash to help pay her mother's mortgage and buy groceries. On just as many occasions, Remus had tried to steer his niece toward crime – he'd been the one to suggest robbing liquor stores in the first place, and had even given her tips on how to not get caught.
He'd also extended several offers for Alexia to fly to Los Santos and join his crew, offers which she'd always declined, since it was a violation of her parole to leave South Yankton. Instead, she'd 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 little. The animals she'd 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 from her uncle was wanting her to rob liquor stores.
Alexia knew a person could change a lot in ten years. 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 who had been so patient with her growing up, who had shown her love when her mom couldn't have been bothered to.
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 who 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 replied in a flat baritone.
"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. As he sized the girl up, Gerald took her much smaller and paler hand in his and gave it two quick shakes.
"Now this girl, he a bit like you, G," said Lamar. "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. She forced 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. "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. 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 these gangs were smaller than the Black Skulls, but they were prevalent in the city's poorer neighborhoods. Her uncle had told her how the Skulls butted heads with these gangs whenever the drug trade took them into their turf. Even though the Skulls' superior weaponry often won out in these skirmishes, Alexia knew Gerald was right – she'd have no chance in Hell of taking on these gangs with her current level of experience.
Experience…
An idea popped in her brain. She quickly gulped down the saliva in her throat, then looked up at Gerald 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 while sitting 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 take care of that day, 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 keep eye contact.
"Alright," he said. "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, then withdrew 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 Alexia had noticed the return address, a PO box in Los Santos. She'd known 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'd never been a good liar, her mom and her brothers had bought this story.
After exchanging numbers, Gerald nodded silently at her and walked away, skulking off by himself into another corner of the parking lot. Alexia's chest felt much lighter as Lamar came up behind her.
"Damn, baby, you handled that like a gangsta." Lamar smiled and punched her in the shoulder. "I should know, bein' a hood-ass nigga myself. Shit, you can't get a better endorsement than that, man."
"I appreciate that, Lamar." Alexia smiled while rubbing her arm. "Hey, uh, weren't we gonna look for a car?"
"Aw, fuck!" Lamar stomped the ground. "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'd secured a job, her very first, assuming she lived through the initiation. 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 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.