Lucky (GTA V)

16: Will You Still Love Me In The Morning?

It was almost 5 days after I arrived here in the desert of dreams and I was scarce on clothing. The last clean outfit I had was on my body.

"Dad?" I asked while sitting on the counter that branched off into the middle of Trevor's trailer.

"Yes?" He replied without looking at me while he looked through the fridge. That awful rotten smell was gone, thanks to Patricia.

"Do you think that... well maybe..we could.." I responded weakly knowing he would probably shoot me down.

He looked over at me. "Spit it out, kid." He urged while I was looking down at my hands in my lap.

"Well uh, I need clothes.. and maybe we could just drive to LS for a few minutes..to get some. Clothes." I mumbled.

Michael frowned. "You wanna get killed by a psychopath?" He asked angrily.

I opened my mouth to reply but he cut me off. "You wanna be murdered and harassed?"

"I-no, but I need-" I began to whine. I felt bad for Trevor who was asleep in the other room. We'd probably wake him up.

"No. Right now - to us - LS don't even exist." He brushed me off.

I crossed my arms over my chest with a loud groan. "I only packed clothes for weekend!"

"Tough fuckin tits!" He yelled back. I was glad Patricia wasn't here to see us argue, I didn't want her to think I was a brat.

"What am I supposed to do then?!" I yelled.

"Find a laundromat, use your god damn head!"

"I'll never be good enough for you, will I?" I shouted.

I pushed myself off the counter and stomped outside. Fuck Michael. I hate him. I sat on the side of the Trailer near the garage and pulled my knees to my chest. "You make me wanna die, Michael. Dickhead. Fucktard." I began whispering hateful words I usually never say while my chin rested on my knees and I stared at the sand.

"Who are you?" A voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked up and saw a man in a bucket hat, a knee brace, red flannel, cargo shorts, and a tank top.

"Who are you?" I retorted.

"I'm Ron." He replied with his arms crossed over his chest. "Why are you here?"

"Why are you?" I said. I was in no mood to be nice.

"Because I'm here to see Trevor." Ron replied.

"Trevor's asleep." I said.

"Well, tell him I stopped by? Or don't actually..." He got real nervous. "I-II'll be back later." He said and jogged off. Weird?

Then I heard the door slam to the trailer and Michael walked past me to his car. He didn't even give me a second glance. Just a patronizing, look down upon look. He got in his car and sped off.

"Prick!" I yelled after his car even though he couldn't hear.

***

"Why are you so concerned about what you look like? I can tell you right now you look better than everyone in Sandy Shores." Trevor said behind me. I was washing my face and inspecting my face for any pimples and plucking my eyebrows.

"Just cause you wanna have bad hygiene doesn't mean I have to as well, Trevor." I looked at him through the mirror.

He rolled his eyes and turned away. "Girls." He mumbled.

After brushing my teeth, I decided to go to bed. Michael was out drinking or sitting by the Alamo wishing he was somewhere else, Patricia had already passed out on the couch with the TV on. Trevor was just... being Trevor.