King x Jail (and other Los Santos stories)

King loves Jail. And Jail loves him. Or does it? Part 2/Finale.

It had been 836 days. 27 months that King and Jail got to spend time together. They shared their life stories, played games, drew pictures, did puzzle races -- everything they could think to do together with the limited time they knew they both shared, they did. King couldn't think of a happier time in his life than right now, when he was blissfully reminiscing upon his time in jail. He knew their time together would come to an end. Everything in life has an ending. This fact of life had just hit King like a ton of bricks and he was suddenly horribly depressed. "Man, this ain't fair, motherfucker." He said, his lower lip trembling and his eyes filling with tears. He didn't want his time with Jail to end. 27 months would never be enough for either of them. The time had flown by without either of them knowing it or being fully prepared for what would happen when he finally had to go. What would they say to one another? What could one say to a jail cell that changed his life for the better? How could he just leave it all behind? As he sat and thought of what he could say to jail and how he could soften the blow, he thought of a line from one of his favorite songs by one of his favorite artists on the face of the planet, Taylor Swift. "Man, Taylor Swift was right. Life really is emotionally abusive, motherfucker." he said as a single tear fell down his cheek in the most dramatic, and perfect way. Almost like in a movie. He quickly wiped it away as he heard voices in the distance and footsteps approaching his cell.

An officer approached his cell. "Alright, King. Your 27 month sentence is up. We'll go ahead and return your belongings and then you're free to go." King heard the officer, but he wasn't truly listening. Their words went in one ear and out the other. He remained still and everything sounded muffled, as though he was underwater. The reality had really, truly hit him this time. He was leaving jail. And he had no idea when he'd be able to see jail again. This was going to be tough for both of them and will surely test their relationship. Could they make things work long-distance until he could come back? Neither of them knew for sure. The air was thick with loss and indecision*. But alas, King did not have the time to process this all now. No. He'd simply have to wait until he got home to put on his favorite record on the face of the planet by his favorite artist on the face of the planet so he could cry and sing along. "Snow On The Beach" by Taylor Swift featuring (his second favorite artist on the face of the planet) Lana Del Rey. For now, he'd just have to say what he had to say and get on with his life. As difficult as that may be.

The officers examined King confused. Why was he just sitting there? He should be jumping at the opportunity to leave jail as soon as possible right? I mean, who would want to stay? "Uh... King?" the officer said, lightly clanging the cell bars with his knuckles. "JUST GIVE ME A MINUTE, MOTHERFUCKER!" he shouted at the officer, clearly agitated. He sighed. "I just need.... I just need a minute alone with my cell. I just wanna say some stuff to it. Clear the air and whatnot. You know how it is, motherfucker." King said, dejectedly. The officers looked at each other, unsure of what to do. Finally one of them shrugged and said, "I actually have no idea how that is, King. But I'll give you a minute to clear your head. We'll just be down the hall. Give us a shout when you're ready." King was surprised that they were being so understanding. He was almost... grateful... appreciative perhaps of the calming presence that the officer's words had offered him. Now he was really starting to worry. That was not like him at all. "I've gotta get myself out of here fast, motherfucker." he whispered to himself. He didn't want jail to hear it. He only wanted what was best for both of them. And right now, maybe what was best for both of them was to have some time apart. 

"Alright jail...", King started, nervously wringing his hands. "You know how I feel about you and I know how you feel about me and I really appreciate everything that you've done for me and everything it's just...", he pauses and picks up one of the drawings they'd worked on together. "It's just... I really feel like we'd both benefit from taking some time apart, y'know... Maybe.. maybe consider seeing different people for now. I don't know I just... I feel like my life has changed so much since I met you and maybe I'm a little scared of that change in me. You know what I'm saying, motherfucker?" He stared at the walls entirely too long. Quietly expecting an answer of some kind. Some cool breeze coming through the bars, a chip falling off the old, dilapidated concrete wall. But he got nothing but silence. He sighed. Clearly jail had nothing to say to that. Things appeared to be over between them for now. He put the drawing back down. Maybe as an olive branch to jail? Maybe because his artistry had not improved one bit since his time in jail and it looked like an abomination a six year old might draw in class as opposed to what was supposed to be a portrait of him standing in front of the Lucky Plucker set ablaze? Maybe a little bit of both. He took one last look around. "I really am gonna miss you, motherfucker. And I hope you find love." he said earnestly.

The officers had returned his belongings to him and freed him back into the unforgiving streets of Los Santos. He turned around and examined the building as a whole one last time. "That motherfucker Taylor Swift said it best. You are the best thing that's ever been mine." He swallowed the lump in his throat that threatened to turn into more tears and went along his merry way. On to his next adventure. Who should he call first? He looked down at his phone and scoured the yellow pages. He spots Ralph's name. He grinned like the Cheshire cat and hit call.  

- fade to black -

The jail cell finally speaks. It's British. "It's gonna be quite a different place with him gone that's for true." it said triumphantly. I guess that answers the age old question. "King loves Jail. and Jail loves him. Or does it?". It does not. And that's life, motherfuckers.

- end credits - 'Home' by Daughtry 

*Swift, Taylor. Dessner, Aaron. Antonoff, Jack. Lyrics to "You're Losing Me". Performed by Taylor Swift, Republic Records, 2023. Genius, https://genius.com/Taylor-swift-youre-losing-me-from-the-vault-lyrics.