Different Flavors (GTA 5 | Wanklin)

Chapter 1: Nurse Wade

The rooster roared in the early morning of Sandy Shores. The sun baring its heat upon the windows and closed brown eyes began to gain consciousness. The heat happened to cause discomfort from the lying figure in bed. No matter what he did, it did no good. He definitely wasn't use to it.

His clothes grew damp from the sweat and he went to turn over. Only to realize his legs were immobilized. He struggled a few times before giving up. Fatigue sunk its claws into his body and he sighed. He guessed he forgot to turn on the fan again.

He sighed again and let his mind wander. He thought about his situation with his Aunt Denise. Everything seemed... incomplete, estranged... he felt like a bargaining chip. Sigh. His relationship with her was very poor.

There was no guidance...only about her "vulva" mantras and many nights of vowels. Times like these made him miss the good old days at Davis High School. When things were simple and the feeling of love was actually a feeling. He missed his Gramma and Grandfather. Every day with them was an adventure but also a life lesson.

He still remembered when his grandmother put him in this tight tux and brought him to church. And made him sing in the sunshine band. He may not of enjoyed the long sermons but being with his grandparents gave him a sense of joy and peace. He missed playing b-ball with JB and Tonya. Although, Tonya always watched from the sidelines, blowing kisses at him and he ignored them plainly.

JB, Tonya, and him were inseparable. Nowadays, sadly, he would rather not be around them as much. Why is it, because someone wants to do better for themselves, the people who're supposed to support you, the people who're supposed to have your back, the people who're supposed to guide you - are the very people who bring you down. If it weren't for his grandparents he would've said his family is shit. But they were good to him. Hell, even his own father beat his momma into scurrying for drugs to escape the pain she endured every night. And the only reason he knew that, was because Aunt Denise got drunk one night and spilled the beans.

At least she told him nicely... well, her version of nicely. His thoughts got interrupted by a tickle under his ball sack. He shifted his position but it only made the tickle even worse. He grunted and opened his eyes to silver-hazel eyes at his crotch.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" Franklin yelled and jumped up. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?"

Wade fell forward, face first into the bed and said with his voice muffled, "I was mmmmm mmm mmm mmm mmm."

"What did you say?" Franklin said, clearly not able to comprehend what Wade said.

"I mmmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm!" Wade said louder.

"Man! Would you get up so I can hear you!?" Franklin said, yelling at the top of his lungs. His voice cracked a little from the delivery.

Wade sat up and wiped his face. "I said," Wade whined, his lisp pretty evident in the room. "I was lookin' at the gun wound on your left leg."

"Why the fuck did you put your face so close to my balls man!? That ain't cool." Franklin said, hitting a fist in his other hand to every syllable he made.

"Chef said I had to make sure it didn't get infected while he went to get some alcohol from the drug store," Wade said, reaching for Franklin.

"The fuck you doin' man?" Franklin went on the defensive and hit Wade's hand away.

"You need to get off your leg. It's weak from the loss of blood." He insisted, trying to reach for Franklin, only to get his hand hit.

"Listen, man, I definitely don't need some ball sniffing, dreadlock wearin' dude looking after me," Franklin said, going nose to nose with Wade, standing on the bed. "I think you need to-"