Chapter Eighteen: Not As Planned

You're at the hotel after coming back from a smoothie place down the street and while you watch TV, you talk with Melanie on the phone. 

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Y/n: I told you I can handle myself. Besides, I'm having fun over here. It's not rained once since I've been here, and the beach is so relaxing. Also, Trevor has been a good dad so far. 

Melanie: I'm glad to hear that. Maybe he really has changed, for the better I mean.

Y/n: Well, I know that my grandma is still not going to like him, same with my mom. And I don't know how often I will see him when I go back to my state, you know.

Melanie: Well, neither your mom and grandma has seen Trevor since before you were born. They obviously haven't been tracking him since. Just know that it's going to take a while for them to consider Trevor as part of the family.

Y/n: I know.

Melanie: So, what other attractions have you been in?

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... Meanwhile...

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It's a bad day. It's a bad day for everyone inside that private plane that's going to crash. But the man who threatened a Mafia boss had it coming.

Trevor is speeding through the forest on a motorbike, following the plane. Riding over hills, shallow rivers, and rocks, he manages to keep his eye on the off-roads and the plane while going over eighty miles an hour. He then sees a two-lane road just up ahead. Instead of slowing down or even getting scared, he makes sure his foot is heavy on the gas pedal. 

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Trevor: You think I can clear two lanes of traffic?

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He talks to Michael, who's on the other side of the line. Using the small dirt hill as a ramp, Trevor easily jumps over the road, even over a bus, and makes it safely to the other side. 

Listening to the pilot's conversation with headquarters, he keeps Michael updated about what's going to happen.

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Trevor: The pilot's fighting it, but he's going down.

Michael: Good. Stay on him. We need those files.

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Trevor is still keeping up with the plane as it now enters his territory, Sandy Shores. 

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Michael: How you doing out there? We still got him?

Trevor: I'm on him. He passed the airfield. Landing ain't gonna be pretty. 

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There is no doubt that the plane is going down, and it's going to go down hard. And up the dirt road is a train moving along the tracks. Trevor stomps on the gas pedal again, and just like before, he uses a dirt ramp to jump over the moving train. 

He even jumps in between the large space of two electrical power lines with ease. Just imagine if you were here to see this. 

Speeding through vacant buildings and old trailers, Trevor continues his pursuit after the plane. The only thing on his mind right now is how much he thinks he's going to get paid for this. I mean, chasing down a plane going down for a while, killing any survivors, and taking the files back to Madrazo. Must be a pretty penny he'll be rewarded for his services.

From dirt roads to the official roads of Sandy Shores, Trevor knows that it'll be less than five minutes for the plane to finally go down. As he comes close to his home, he yells out loud,

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Trevor: Ron! You better be working!

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Ron was in his backyard trying to grow a plant, but the second he heard Trevor's voice, he got up and quickly put some shade on the plant before running back inside. 

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Trevor: Okay, this guy's going down any minute. 

Michael: Good. Let's hope he don't take out some poor farmer while he's at it. 

Trevor: Only thing they farm out here is methamphetamine.

Michael: Ah, Trevor Phillips's country.

Trevor: God, I miss it out here. You got to come visit sometime. 

Michael: Yeah, you know what. I'm good.

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Oh yeah, that reminds him. He never got to see you here in Sandy Shores since he was already in Los Santos when you got here. Meaning that he hasn't shown you his home and his business. Of course, he's not going to let get into the business, and nor is he going to give you too much detail about it. But he can definitely show you around. He knows how dangerous his business can be, and interacting with his kind of people and customers is something he wants to steer you away from. 

Finally, the plane hits the ground. And Trevor is right on time nearby. 

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Trevor: They're in the dirt. 

Michael: Good, get the files. And if the cousin made it, take him out.

Trevor: Sure thing, but seriously bro - coming all the way out here, we gotta get paid. 

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As he comes to a complete stop, he takes out his gun in case the target survives. Trevor walks over to the plane and what do you know? The target did survive, and he's getting out of the plane now. Raising his arm out, Trevor takes one shot at the target. The bullets hit the target in the head, killing him instantly. 

After the target falls to the ground, Trevor makes his way inside the plane. Pushing the dead pilot aside, he grabs the case by the pilot's feet before quickly getting out of the smoking plane. 

After grabbing the case, he runs far enough to where the smoke isn't filling his lungs anymore. He even lets out a few coughs as he tries to breathe for air. Trevor then calls Michael to let him know he's got the files.

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Michael: T, how'd it go?

Trevor:(Coughs) Fine. Just fine. I got the files. I'll take them to Madrazo and explain the human cost of this errand.

Michael: (Sighs) Well, take it easy man. Listen to me. We'll talk about that later. I want you to just drop off the files. I gotta get rid of this rifle, then we'll talk. 

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Trevor hangs up and puts his phone away. It's going to take a while to get back to Madrazo's mansion. All he knows is, he better not be doing all of this for free.

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...Meanwhile With You...

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A little while later, you find yourself inside a local bakery in Del Perro. And while you're shopping, your bodyguard Jack is nearby pretending to be one of the crowd outside on the boardwalk. Of course, you don't know that you have somebody following you for your protection. This is all just in case someone else knows you're Trevor's kid and they just so happen to have a problem with Trevor.

While you're debating on getting some cupcakes or cookies, someone walks into the bakery. A woman wearing black leather pants, a plain-black crop top, a black leather jacket, and black combat boots. She seems to be very tired as she walks over to the counter and orders a bottle of water and some hot coffee.

You make your way over to a section where the bakery keeps its homemade cinnamon buns. The sign says you can tell the cashier to add more icing if you want more. They have big cinnamon buns that are a little bigger than your hand, and they even have mini cinnamon buns. All in cute pink bakery boxes.

After the woman takes her coffee, she leaves the water bottle on the counter before going over to the cinnamon bun section and grabbing one of the cinnamon bun boxes. You couldn't help but notice that she seemed sad about something. Aside from thinking she's probably hungover, she also seems sad.

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Y/n: Hey, are you okay?

???: W-What? Oh uh, yeah. I'm alright. I just woke up. 

Y/n: Oh, you took a nap.

???: No... (Sighs), I just woke up. There was a party last night, and I got carried away with it again.

Y/n: Is there something that's been bothering you?

???: (Chuckles) Funny, my boyfriend didn't even ask me that before I left this morning. Um... I've been thinking that maybe the partying, and the drinking is something I don't wanna do anymore. I'm getting tired of feeling this way. I'm tired of waking up in the morning and not even remembering what happened last night. 

Y/n: I think that's a good idea. You're aware that this isn't what you want anymore.

???: I don't but... Well, I don't know if you noticed but I'm in the Lost. 

Y/n: The criminal organization? 

???: Between you and me, not so much as an organization ever since some psychopath killed one of our top leaders, killed a bunch of important Lost members, and blew up their homes back in Sandy Shores.

Y/n: Really?! I was in Sandy Shores not too long ago and I didn't even hear about that.

???: It's not like people there actually care about us. Well, unless we're selling them dope and stuff. 

Y/n: So what's stopping you from wanting a better life? 

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Her eyes widened a bit as she took in what you said. You're right, why the Hell should she continue living like this?

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???: Yeah, you know what? I'm done. The Lost can suck it. I'm going to call a friend right now and ask if I can crash at his place till I get clean. Thanks for listening kid, say what's your name?

Y/n: It's Y/n, and hey, I'll be rooting for you.

???: Thanks Y/n.

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She smiles before walking back to the counter to take her water bottle and pays for the cinnamon buns before leaving the bakery. You hope she stays true to her word that she'll change. 

After paying for your cinnamon buns and other baked goods, you head outside and walk along the boardwalk. Maybe you can go fishing to pass the time. There is a rental place at the end of the boardwalk to rent out fishing poles.

That's when you hear your phone go off. Getting it out of your pocket, you see that it's your dad.

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*Y/n: Hey dad.*

*Trevor: Y/n, there's been uh, a sudden change in plans. Turns out I'll be away for a little while, but don't worry, I'll be back as soon as I can. I'll keep you updated.*

*Y/n: Is everything alright over there? What happened?*

*Trevor: I can't go into details with you, but it's okay. I won't be too long and when I come back I can take you to the shooting range.*

*Y/n: Alright, I'll see ya dad.*

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You hang up, you honestly don't know how you feel about this. Cause now you're really alone in this city, and he didn't say how long he'll be gone for. 

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...Meanwhile...

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Trevor drives up to an old abandoned factory somewhere up on Senora Road. Michael is there waiting for him, but what shocks him is that Trevor is driving one of Madrazo's lux SUVs. 

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As Trevor stops the vehicle, he gets out of the car to greet Michael. But Michael isn't really in a happy greeting mood at the sight of this.

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Michael: The fuck has happened!? Why do you have his car?

Trevor: That piece of tard, huh? No wonder people are stabbing him in the back.

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As he says this, he opens the passenger door and makes his way over to the trunk, but Michael continues questioning him.

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Michael: What happened?

Trevor: Cheap bastard. You know, I really don't know why you mess around with people that Mikey. I mean really I-

Michael: TREVOR! Answer the fucking question!

Trevor: I asked for a fair day's pay after a fair day's work. Then, he kinda got a little angry so I admit, I kinda got a little angry. 

Michael: Did you kill him?

Trevor: What kind of fucking animal do you take me for? No I didn't kill him. 

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That's when Trevor turns to the trunk of the SUV and opens the trunk, revealing something just as terrifying as the idea of killing Madrazo.

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Trevor: But I did kidnap his wife!

Michael: Oh no! Oh shit! The fuck did you do?

Trevor: (Carries the woman) Oh, I just told you what I just did.

Michael: Oh shit!

Trevor: Now, unfortunately. I think that we're gonna to have to lay low for a little while, y'know, we discuss things with Martin. 

Michael: Oh, you think. 

Trevor: Why don't you pop in the back, alright? Now Patrica, she already called shotgun. Now I know a nice little place we can hang out. You know, a very relaxing little spot. A little getaway if you will. A cabin in the woods. You know what I'm saying.

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As Trevor starts the SUV, Michael is sitting in the back seat trying not to have a panic attack right now. 

As Trevor is driving along the road, he gets a weird feeling. He doesn't know what exactly it is. Maybe it's the hitchhiker he had for breakfast this morning. Or maybe it's the meth he did after eating the hitchhiker. But... maybe it's a better idea to have someone he knows personally to look after his daughter while he's away.

Taking out his phone, he makes the call to the one guy in this town whom he can trust enough to take care of his daughter.

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Franklin is standing on his balcony, enjoying the view of his new home in the Vinewood Hills. His dog Chop is enjoying an afternoon nap. 

Everything seems alright, for now, that is. He just got off the phone with an "old friend", and this old friend was threatening Franklin to give him some of his hard-earned money. 

That's when Franklin gets a call from Trevor. He doesn't know what Trevor could want, but he knows it's still best to at least answer him.

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*Franklin: You called?*

*Trevor: Yeah, listen I need you to do me a favor.*

*Franklin: Depends, what kind of favor?*

*Trevor: I need you to check in on my daughter while I and Michael are going away for a while.*

*Franklin: Going where? Is Michael alright?*

*Trevor: Yeah yeah, he's fine. Don't worry about him. But I want ya to check in on my daughter to make sure she's okay. You can even take this opportunity to call her the niece you've always wanted.*

*Franklin: Uh, I don't know about that T. That's quite a favor you're asking.*

*Trevor: Come on, I know you're the guy I can trust and count on. Unlike some people here. Besides, it won't be forever. It's only for a little while until we get back, and then that's it. What do you say homie?*

*Franklin: Alright, fine. I'll do it.*

*Trevor: Good, I'll send you her number and where she's staying at.*

*Franklin: Alright.*

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Trevor hangs up, and Michael finally looks up after being done having a panic attack. 

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Michael: Really? You got Franklin to be your kid's babysitter?

Trevor: I know I can trust him. Y/n won't be a trouble for him. She's a good kid, and I'm just making sure that she's in good hands. 

Michael: I gotta hand it to you Trevor. You're taking this parenting thing seriously. 

Trevor: Of course I've been taking it seriously. You were thinking that I wasn't? 

Michael: I'm not saying that.

Trevor: It kind of sounds like you are.

Michael: All I'm saying is that I'm proud of you T. I'm glad you have a family of your own to look after and keep you grounded. 

Trevor: Thank you, I appreciate that. 

Michael: Don't mention it. Now I just wish we didn't have to go into hiding. 

Trevor: Aw, don't worry Mikey. You're going to love Casa de Trevor. There's beer, meth. What more could you want, huh? 

Michael: (Sighs and groans).

Trevor: That's good, let it all out now Mikey. 

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It's been a long day already for Michael, but this definitely takes the cake. But more importantly, back to you. You're chilling at the beach and eating your cinnamon buns. You don't know when Trevor's coming back here, and you're obviously not going to tell Melanie or your grandma that. But you feel like it shouldn't be too long.