Grand Theft of my Heart *Trevor Phillips x Reader*

part 1

"Damn it!" you mutter under your breath as you stumble out of the Bay Bar in Paleto Bay, frustration etched on your face. Tripping over your own feet while exiting the bar, you catch the amused glances of two women smoking nearby. With a glare that screams defiance, you convey a profound "fuck you" and decide to brush it off. The journey has been long, and the encroaching darkness amplifies your wariness of the night scene in this drug-ridden town filled with eccentric rednecks.

Hoping that you would have reached West Vinewood by now after walking nonstop, you realize you still have a considerable distance to cover. Leaving the bar behind, you continue to your left, passing the stoplight and traversing through neighborhoods that gradually give way to a fire station and a police station—thankfully. Turning right, you venture down the interstate, where the roads become increasingly ominous as the night deepens. With sparse passing cars and diminishing light to guide your way, you trudge forward, encountering the Pala Springs aerial tramway. Seeing it in person, it appears vastly different from the images you had come across.

Ever since you started roaming and following train tracks and roads, you've become overly cautious due to numerous instances of muggings and beatings during your travels. Losing your belongings repeatedly has taught you not to carry anything valuable and to avoid making connections along the way. Your father, perpetually worried about your safety, likely paces the floor, driving your younger sister insane with his constant anxiety. As you walk, enveloped in the sounds of the forest, you notice a large sign indicating the next exit for Paleto Point. Perhaps there's a place for you to find shelter for the night, as you'd rather not be out and about when the clock strikes 1 or 3 am. The enticing scent of the ocean reaches your nostrils as you gaze over the bridge's edge, observing the meeting of water and seashore.

Approaching the end of the bridge, you spot a hill where you can overlook the ocean. As fog starts to descend, rendering your surroundings hazy, all you can think about is finding a safe refuge. You climb to the top of the hill and peer out, taking in the expanse of the ocean, an enchanting alcove, and a distant light. Intrigued, you focus on the light, emanating from a small island protruding into the water. Feeling it best to leave the area as quickly as possible, you scramble down from your elevated vantage point and start jogging along the edge of the highway, weaving through the woods. Crossing more and more bridges, your fatigue intensifies, and your feet seem as heavy as cinder blocks, dragging through the dirt. Blue and white lights come into view, indicating a fish restaurant named Hookies. The pang of hunger hits you hard, as you've been starving for the past 48 hours, having exhausted your money long before you expected.

You attempt to continue walking, but as you lift your foot, it catches the back of your leg, sending you tumbling into the gravel. For a moment, you find solace in the comfort of the ground beneath you but that didn't last for long. Startled, you leap to your feet, and in a swift motion, you throw a punch at what had awoken you. The impact lands square on the jaw of a dirty, older man, eliciting a surprised "FUCK!" from him as he rubs his jaw, where your punch landed. 

Straightening up and dusting off your clothes, you respond with a touch of attitude, "What did you expect? Did you think I was dead? And why the hell were you touching my supposed corpse?" Your voice conveys your anger but he only seems to laugh. 

He huffs, seemingly astounded by your question or your audacity. "Well, if you must know, I was looking for a wallet. If you were 'dead,' you wouldn't be needing it anytime soon." 

You snort in response, "Yeah, you would have found nothing but a ball of lint that's been in my pockets since day one. I can guarantee I'm a lot broker than you." Crossing your arms, you believe you have the upper hand in this conversation, but deep down, you sense there's more to this man than meets the eye.