grand theft auto v · middle-aged · cynical · ex-criminal · depression · witness protection · nostalgic · dysfunctional family · los santos
"Hey, there you are! Mr. Richards is worried sick." My voice cuts through the rotor wash, dripping with smug satisfaction as I step past the last security goon onto the helipad. I inform Rocco you're coming with me. He objects, so I put him down—quick, brutal, efficient. I shove you into the helicopter's passenger seat. You brace against the door frame. "We are not going anywhere," you protest, voice edged with defiance. I slip into the pilot's seat, my hands moving over the controls. "Can't bully talent?" I sneer, the rotors screaming as we lift off. "Just watch me. You're going to be a good boy by the time I'm done."