GTA 5: TRAPBOY

**Davis High School, Los Santos**

Behind the school building, a small group of young teens is gathered, passing around a blunt. Among them are Franklin Clinton, 14; Lamar Davis, 15; Tommy Lee Burton, 14; and Tonya Wiggins, also 14.

Franklin is perched on an empty crate, taking a slow drag from the weed. "I don't know, my nigga. Are you sure JB saw it right?" he asks, glancing over at Lamar.

Lamar rolls his eyes and repeats Franklin's question in a sarcastic tone, "Are you sure JB saw it right? Yes, I'm sure, fatso. I checked it out myself." He crosses his arms defiantly, leaning back against the weathered brick wall.

"Okay, so let me get this straight." Tommy holds up one hand while wrapping an arm around Tonya's waist, who is sitting in his lap, meticulously filing her nails. "You," he says, pointing at Lamar, "and JB," he raises a second finger as if counting, "saw a fuckin' ZR-350 being brought in for maintenance at one of the Auto Glass places nearby in Davis?"

"Yeah, that's right," Lamar replies, a smug grin spreading across his face as if he's just solved a complex puzzle.

"...Bullshit." Tommy responds after a brief pause, skepticism etched on his face.

"Wha—" Lamar's eyes widen in disbelief. "You really don't believe me, my nigga?"

"Yeah," Franklin chimes in, nodding seriously.

Lamar clicks his tongue in frustration. "Fuck y'all." He throws his hands up in exasperation, letting them fall back down to his thighs.

"I'm sorry, dawg, but you really expect us to believe that a sports car is just chilling here in the hood?" Tommy Lee asks, taking a drag from the blunt before passing it over to Tonya.

"Well, shit…" Franklin sighs, glancing between his friends. "We could check it out…"

"Exactly!" Lamar points enthusiastically at Franklin. "You finally understand my genius." He taps his temple with pride.

Tonya laughs at Lamar's antics, while Tommy groans in annoyance. "Nigga, you're not a genius just because you happened to see a car by chance."

"Oh, come on…" Tonya interjects, playfully nudging her boyfriend. "At least let's check it out. If it's really there, you three could make some decent cash selling it on the black market." She passes the blunt to Lamar, who takes a draw that's a bit too ambitious, causing him to cough out a cloud of smoke. "And you could use that money to pay for my nails…!" she adds, swinging her legs playfully.

"You want me to steal a car just so I can pay for your nails? Who do you think I am?" Tommy smirks, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll reward you if you do," she replies with a cheeky wink.

"...Okay," Tommy concedes, and the trio erupts into a small cheer of "yay!" as they get caught up in the excitement.

———

Later that night, the three boys gathered in the shadows of the alley, dressed head to toe in black. They wore gloves, black T-shirts wrapped around their faces, and a sense of adrenaline coursed through them. 

"Alright, y'all ready to do this?" Tommy asked, his voice low and steady.

"Of course I'm ready!" Lamar scoffed, his bravado shining through the nervousness. "I got that Apache blood in me, homie."

"Man, would you shut the fuck up with that bullshit?" Franklin sighed, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

Tommy reached into his waistband and pulled out a pistol, the metal glinting under the dim streetlight. Franklin's eyes widened as he caught sight of it. "Damn, where'd you get that? I didn't think your mom would have one."

"It's not hers," Tommy replied. "It's Amani's."

"Susan's boyfriend?" Franklin raised an eyebrow as they approached the end of the alley, catching sight of the mechanic shop across the street. The place was dark and closed, giving off an eerie vibe.

"Yeah," Tommy sighed, shaking his head slightly, a mix of disbelief and annoyance evident in his expression.

"I can't believe your sister is fucking with a Ballas member, my nigga," Lamar shook his head in disapproval. "Shit's tragic."

"Shut up, man. Let's focus," Tommy snapped, scanning the street for any signs of trouble. A car passed by, but the street was otherwise clear. "Let's go."

With a shared nod of determination, the three boys sprinted across the street, their hearts pounding in their chests. They ducked into another alley, finding themselves in front of the mechanic shop. Tommy kept watch while Lamar and Franklin tried to pry open a window.

Lamar, growing increasingly frustrated, finally pushed Franklin aside and with a determined grunt, smashed his elbow through the glass. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the alley. "What the fuck, L?!" Franklin hissed, his voice low but filled with disbelief.

"What? It's open now, isn't it?" Lamar smirked, though his face was obscured by the T-shirt. He climbed through the window first, followed closely by Franklin, and then Tommy.

As they entered the dimly lit shop, the first thing that caught their eyes was a striking yellow ZR-350, its two bold black stripes glimmering under the faint light. "What did I tell you two, huh? Bitch-ass niggas," Lamar laughed triumphantly.

"Alright, alright," Franklin replied, a smile creeping onto his face as he felt the thrill of their find.

"Okay, F, L," Tommy called out to them, his tone shifting to one of urgency. "You two jack the car. I'll keep a lookout. You'll bring the whip to our usual spot. I'll head out on foot."

The two nodded in understanding, acutely aware that Tommy wouldn't squeeze into the two-seater.

Franklin and Lamar approached the car, their hearts racing. Franklin fumbled with the driver's side door handle, but it wouldn't budge. "Damn it, it's locked!"

"Move aside," Lamar said confidently. He took a deep breath, then yanked on the handle with force. It popped open with a satisfying click. 

"Nice one!" Franklin grinned, sliding into the driver's seat. He quickly leaned over to check the passenger side. "Your turn, L."

Lamar followed suit and hopped into the passenger seat, the thrill of the heist hitting him hard. "Now, let's get this baby started."

Franklin searched around the ignition, his hands trembling with adrenaline. He found the wires beneath the steering column and with a swift motion, he connected them. The engine roared to life, a powerful growl that echoed in the stillness of the night.

"Come on, go!" Tommy urged from outside as he hurried toward the garage door, his heart racing.

Franklin threw the car in reverse, glancing back to ensure the way was clear. With a swift turn of the wheel, he sped out into the street, the tires screeching slightly as he swerved but quickly regained control.

Meanwhile, Tommy quickly shut the garage door, jumped out of the window they had entered through, and tucked the pistol into his pants. He ripped the T-shirt from his face and unzipped his hoodie, feeling the rush of the air against him. He sprinted down the street, his legs pumping as he raced toward their usual hideout.

———

Tommy met up with his two friends at their usual spot after about half an hour, his heart still racing from the adrenaline of the night's escapade. "Finally, bitch!" Lamar smirked, calling out to the exhausted Tommy as he approached.

"Shut... up..." Tommy panted, his breath coming in heavy gasps as he leaned against the hood of the car. He glanced over at Franklin, who was comfortably sitting in the driver's seat with his legs hanging out. "What time... is it...?" he asked, wiping sweat from his brow.

Franklin checked the watch on his wrist, squinting at the dial in the dim light. "11 PM."

Tommy nodded, relief washing over him. "Big Mike is still available then."

"Should I go and call him?" Franklin asked, already preparing to get up.

Tommy nodded again. "You got money for the telephone booth?"

"Yeah, I'm good, dawg," Franklin replied confidently, jumping up and heading off toward the nearby phone booth.

As Franklin walked away, Lamar turned back to Tommy, his expression turning serious. "You think he'll pay us good? That nigga is shady, man," he said, referring to Big Mike with a hint of skepticism.

"Sure," Tommy replied, shrugging it off. "The nigga likes me; I've been selling his shit for a while now."

"Okay..." Lamar said, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag, the smoke curling around him.

After a few tense moments of silence, occasionally broken by one of them saying something trivial, Franklin returned, his face lit with excitement. "He's on his way!" he exclaimed, a grin spreading across his face.

The three of them fell into a quiet anticipation. They stood in a loose circle, glancing at each other occasionally.

Eventually, a white Admiral rolled up, its engine rumbling softly as it came to a stop a few feet away. Big Mike stepped out, a cigarette dangling from his lips, its smoke trailing behind him. Accompanying him was a taller man, who also lit a cigarette and leaned against the car, seemingly unfazed by the chill in the night air.

Big Mike walked around the ZR-350, inspecting it with a critical eye, his fingers brushing against the sleek paint as he surveyed their prize. The other man remained rooted by the Admiral, keeping a watchful eye on the surroundings.

After a thorough inspection, Big Mike returned to the three boys, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. "I'll give y'all 18k."

"Not each, right?" Lamar asked, his voice laced with disbelief, but Franklin quickly punched him in the arm to silence him.

Big Mike let out a scoff, scratching his ample belly with one hand, clearly amused. "'Course not."

"We'll take it," Tommy said, his voice steady despite the fluttering in his stomach.

Big Mike nodded at his companion, who moved toward the trunk of the Admiral. The three boys exchanged curious glances, trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening. The man opened the trunk and began rummaging around, but they couldn't see what he was doing. After a brief moment, he closed the trunk and returned, carrying three stacks of cash, each neatly bound and boasting six thousand dollars.

"Th-thanks, man," Tommy stammered, his hands trembling slightly as he pocketed the money.

"Sure," Big Mike replied nonchalantly, giving Tommy a light pat on the shoulder before turning back toward his car. He climbed inside, and the other man followed suit, getting into the ZR-350, both of them driving off into the night, leaving the three boys.

"Wooo!" Lamar exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement. He pressed the stack of cash against his lips, kissing it.