Welcome to Los Santos

Based on my GTA Online character, Kel. With far fewer swears and derogatory terms than the game actually has. Insert them as you read at your own leisure. Likely cut out half the dialogue. Haha, actually use certain words to replace the swears and such.

The city glistened below, in the dark, the lights of tens of millions of people glittering on and off as the populace partook in the late night fun LS had to offer: Drugs, sex, theft, murder. K had heard the stories. He read some in the papers, and heard some through friends while he was still in Liberty City. But things went sideways in LC. Organized crime had both soared and crashed and the power vacuum was not something he wanted to deal with. He was a playboy, a high roller, and he had a lot of connections which suddenly disappeared. It wasn’t an ideal scenario to join them.

The plane touched down, he quickly got through baggage, and soon he was outside, a black kid waiting for him. The boy was maybe early twenties, a tall and lanky kid. “Yo, you k?” K nodded. “Well get in the car. They said you don’t talk much.”

K put his bag in the backseat and got in. Lamar kept driving and talking, spewing crap about the gangs in the area, Grove Street, Ballas, Vagos, Azteca, and Families. It didn’t matter to K. He wasn’t some low end thug. By the end of the afternoon he’d be in a penthouse sipping expensive gin, with two nearly naked maids and three prostitutes on his full time retinue. It wouldn’t be as glorious as Liberty City, but he’d get there. And low end gang bangers wouldn’t lead him to that path overlooking the city like a lord of his fiefdom. There was a grin on K’s face as he came up with the analogy. He liked it. It was better than the crap Lamar was spewing.

“Yo, dawg, look, there a race tonight. You want in? Big wager and what not. Heard you were a booster where you from. Heard you got fat stacks a paper. Why not multiply, son?”

“Sure,” K nodded. How good could these kids be? They would be amateurs and street punks. He spent a lot of time on the road, most of it drunk or running from the law. Some of it being both at the same time. The plane wore him down, but there was no way he was nearly as impaired as when he won races back home. “Then I’ll go house shopping.”

“You brought that tall a stacks? Shoot, son. Yeah, lets put that all down and see what we can buy you. Maybe some real life Hugh Hefner crap. Man, just remember who brought you to the top when you there. Invite me a bit. Get me set up.” He pulled into a parking lot near Vinewood. “Maybe get me some women. High class ones, not the crap I’m stuck with. Crack hoes and dead beats. Shoot, friend had a good catch, but she gone found a brain surgeon or something. Thug ain’t got no chance gainst a doctor.”

They stopped and K got out of the car. There were numerous muscle cars and he picked his poison. When paper was taken, he put all in. The beautiful young girl blushed at seeing the amount of cash he threw around, and K smiled at her, “When I win, you want to see a real player? I’m going to have a huge penthouse and a cold bed. You should be there to warm it.” He touched her cheek and she blushed more.

“If you can win this, I’ll warm whatever you want, sugar.” She winked and walked away. This was the life. This was what K was looking for. A new start, far away from the illegal organizations which were falling in Liberty City. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. He wouldn’t get involved with them. He would keep everything at least semi legal. And if he could double his money on this race? He could likely become a day trader and live off those proceeds easily enough, truly a king in his penthouse, controlling the world on puppet strings. He sighed, content, as he pulled up to the starting line. The girl blew him a kiss as she put down the flag to go, and the cars ripped off into the LS night.


K’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. Second place. Right at the end, the bastard clipped his back and roared ahead of him, with only thirty feet to go. No one else was even close. Second place. He didn’t catch a name. K just pulled over to the side, eyes wide, jaw rigid, his body trembling. He whispered, “Second place?” The girl didn’t even look at him. There was no penthouse in his future. He had maybe a grand to his name. What the hell was he to do with a grand?  Might as well parade around downtown throwing it to junkies and bums. Second place. He put his head on the steering wheel, then jumped when someone banged on his window.

“Damn, son, you jumpy little boy, aintcha? Lets go make some stacks. Make up for what you jus’ loss.” It was Lamar and his mouth wouldn’t stop moving again.

K got out of his car, “Damnit. I just wanted this to be better than LC.”

“Fo’ sure, foo. It’ll be way better than that stuff place. We real here. They all just stuffy pricks. Come on, son, let’s go.” The world shook under K as he found his footing on the pavement. It was cool in the early morning, the sun nearly coming up over the horizon. “I have someone you should meet, and we go from there. Otherwise, can always bump off convenient stores till I get you that meeting, find a place to lay up for a few nights and what not. I call ya when I get in touch with my brother. Not legit brother, don’t gimme that look, but street bro. Anyway, you look like crap, son. Go get taken care of. Get some clothes and what not. See you round. Don’t make the news or nothin.” Lamar walked off, turned one last time, “Peace, son.”

K grit his teeth. This was not the new start he was looking for. On the up side, there was a comet sitting in the parking spot just ahead and not a person in sight. At least he could drive in style, he thought, breaking the window and wiring the car. He tore off into the early morning light.

2 Comments on “Welcome to Los Santos

  1. Pingback: Becoming a Self-Made Man | Paul Davis

  2. Pingback: I Did it for the Drugs | Paul Davis

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