Fake AH Crew Oneshots

One-shot #8

The empty glass was placed roughly on the chipped wooden counter, remnants of the beer inside clung to the glass. A hand was raised to call the bartender over but another quickly pulled it down.

"Michael, you've had enough." While her voice was soft, Jack's eyes were narrowed and even in his blurred, drunk vision, Michael could tell she was mad.

He yanked his hand out of her grip and rested his head on it, eyes closed. "Yeah, but I'm bored. Those idiots were supposed to be here, like, an eternity ago. What time even is it now?" Michael slurred over his words as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned it on. Jack could tell after a few seconds that he wasn't even taking in the numbers, just looking at the screen blankly.

"Two. It's two in the afternoon, you're drunk, 'Fake Chop' or whatever they're called are late and I am over it."Jack said, exasperated. Her red hair clung loosely to her forehead from the hot, shifty bar that the new gang had organised. At first she was worried it was going to be an ambush, but now she was more convinced it was a fraud. Maybe Geoff didn't meet these wild kids who had 'obvious potential,' and he just sent the two of them out of the penthouse for a while so he could have some silence.

Gavin had left with Ryan to see some dealer in uptown Los Santos and Jeremy was off being Jeremy, which left her and Michael just lying around, making noise.

"Hey yeah, can I have another one," Jack was brought back to reality by Michael conversing with the bartender who had unfortunately wandered over. She could see the annoyance on his wrinkled face as he grabbed yet another glass and filled it up. The bar was pretty much empty considering the time so his main attention was on the weird couple who looked just as reluctant to be there as he did.

As he handed the glass over, Jack made a grab at it before Michael could even respond and quickly downed the whole drink, slamming the cup down on the table and standing up. She tugged Michael to his feet, whispering some lie about how their job was already done and threw a hundred dollar bill on the counter.

As they stepped outside, the light was blinding as the sun glared down at them, and it took Jack a while to adjust to the new brightness, considering the contrast from the dark bar. The first thing she saw was their cheap undercover car parked in front of her, then her vision expanded to include the Jeep that was practically parked on top of it.

Michael seemed to have noticed the same thing as her and spewed out some words with no particular force behind them to no particular person. "What the fuck happened to the car, you asshole, we'll get you alright." He began stumbling forward to the jeep where four people had hopped out, varying expressions of alarm on their face as they made the connection of the car to the owners.

The first to step forward and speak was significantly the buffest; a sleeveless shirt showing off his muscles and leather boots on his feet, however beyond his defensive expression, Jack could see the that he too was slightly afraid. Perhaps they recognised them?

"We are here for-"

"You heard him," Jack cut him off and crossed her arms. "What the fuck happened to our car?"

The man looked back at the other three he was with in alarm who shared equal looks of concern for their lives before turning back to Jack.

"Yeah, I was, uh, getting to that." His voice was high pitched, something that threw Jack off but her expression did not waver. "I'm Brett," he gestured to the other three. "And this is Joe, Aleks and Trevor." They each respectively waved an awkward hello before going back to looking at anything other than the pissed lady and drunken wreck before them.

"And?" Jack asked. "I didn't ask for your names." She could tell she was being rude, but honestly, she couldn't care less right now, especially with this infuriating crowd.