GTA V : The golden

A faint ringing sound, seemed like it was coming from my phone lying on the little table next to the bed, woke me up. I opened my eyes slowly, staring at a ceiling with fancy classic patterns, reflecting a luxury I never asked for or wanted. This house was a gift from my dad, a gift weighed down with more meaning than just generosity.

I got out of the big bed covered in silky sheets. My feet hit the cold marble floor. The room was huge, bigger than anything I ever needed, but it felt weirdly empty. Expensive furniture, marble-topped tables, paintings on the walls – all of them seemed like they were just reminders that I was Ethan James, "son of Jonathan James," one of the top businessmen in Los Santos.

The natural light softly filtered through the heavy curtains, and the silence filled the place, so quiet I could even hear my own breath. I wasn't comfortable here, despite all the luxury. The house felt like it belonged to someone else, someone who wasn't me.

I made my way to the open kitchen, everything arranged perfectly. I brewed a cup of coffee while keeping an eye on the clock above the oven. 10 AM. Another day starting in this fancy house where I always felt like an unwanted guest.

I sat down at the kitchen table, sipping my coffee slowly, my eyes drifting around the house. Then, my gaze stopped at a big old family picture hanging in the living room. It was an old photo, taken before my mom passed. My mom was smiling peacefully, and I was next to her, small and smiling too, while my dad stood behind us, his hand on my shoulder.

I felt a sharp sting in my chest. That photo was a brutal reminder of a life that had lost its shape a long time ago. My mom was the only safe place that ever gave me real warmth, and without her, my life had turned into a series of events I never chose.

I put the coffee cup on the glass table in front of the couch, then slowly got up and walked to my room. I opened the big closet, full of carefully chosen pieces from the most expensive brands, as if they were another reflection of a life I never chose. I picked a sleek black leather jacket with light metallic touches on the shoulders that gave it a modern edge, and threw it over a simple gray shirt with the collar open.

I grabbed a pair of skinny black jeans that matched the jacket and polished black leather shoes with sharp edges, like they were made just for me. Took a deep breath, looked in the mirror, adjusted my shirt collar, and made sure the jacket fit perfectly on my shoulders. It looked sharp, but at the same time, it gave off a vibe of indifference, like I was balancing between elegance and simplicity.

I looked in the mirror and saw a guy in his mid-twenties, black hair, pale blue eyes, sharp eyebrows.

"I hate myself."

I left the room. Walked down the stairs, out the front door, and into the backyard, where I headed to my Bentley Flying Spur, black as night.

I grabbed the keys, started the car, and drove off.

As I cruised through Rockford Hills, I noticed my neighbor's house. Michael De Santa. I realized I hadn't talked to him in a while.

He was always full of life, whether it was from arguing with his family or yelling at the TV while watching golf. Today, though, his house looked weirdly quiet, like something was missing. I hadn't talked to him in a long time. I pulled out my phone, tapped his name in my contacts, and called. The phone rang once, then twice, but no answer.

I focused back on the road, but before I passed his house, I saw a yellow Toyota FJ Cruiser speeding out of his driveway, driving suspiciously fast. I stopped for a second, watching it zoom down the street.

"Strange… I've never seen that car here before. Who's that?"

Curiosity got the best of me, so I decided to follow the car, but carefully, not wanting to attract attention. The car headed toward downtown, to Premium Deluxe Motorsport, the car dealership owned by Simeon Yetarian.

I saw the car suddenly slow down, and I noticed a guy in the back pointing a gun to the driver's head.

I pulled my gun out from the glove compartment, just in case.

The car pulled over just a bit away from Premium Deluxe Motorsport, and I saw the guy clearly, aiming the gun at the young black driver's head. And it was Michael.

He was yelling at the guy, pointing for him to move forward.

Then, the car sped toward the building and crashed right into the showroom window. Glass shattered everywhere inside.

"Shit…"

I sped up in my car toward the dealership.

I saw Michael and the guy getting out. Michael handed him a few hundred-dollar bills.

I heard Simeon yelling at the guy. Franklin, I think?

Then, Franklin walked out of the store and left.

I got out of my car and walked toward the store calmly. Michael and Simeon were fighting, though I wouldn't call it a real fight, more like a one-sided beating.

"You think you can take me on?" Michael said, landing a strong punch.

He grabbed Simeon's face, punched him toward the car, and slammed him into the front door.

"You know this beauty? Huh?"

I couldn't watch anymore and pulled away from the store a little, stopping to smoke a cigarette. Some time passed, and then Michael stormed out of the store, pissed off.

"You guys look real cozy in there," I said sarcastically.

Michael turned to look at me, surprised. "Ethan? Haven't seen you in a while. What brings you here?"

I handed him a cigarette.

"Nothing much. I saw a clean car just a few minutes ago, leaving your place. Now it's sitting in the middle of your showroom, with the front glass smashed."

Michael took the cigarette and lit it.

He looked at the dealership, then back at me. "Is it one of your dad's properties? If it is, I'm sorry, I'll pay for the damage."

"No. Not one of that old man's properties. Don't worry."

"How's it going? Haven't seen you in a while," Ethan asked.

"Same old," Michael said, wiping a bit of blood off his fist. "But today's different. Feels like I'm back in my youth."

Ethan laughed, looking calm. "You need help? Looks like you've got some issues. What happened?"

Michael shrugged. "Nah, nothing serious. Just some small problems and car insurance scams."

"And you? Got a girlfriend yet?"

"No," Ethan said, uninterested.

Michael sighed. "If you want, my daughter's a good match for you."

"Thanks, but Tracy will kill me before I even think about dating her."

Michael laughed.

Ethan smiled, flicked his cigarette away. "Want a ride? Looks like you don't have a car."

Michael refused. "Nah, I'm good. I want to hang out here for a while."

Then Michael pulled out his phone.

"You free?"

"No, got stuff to do," Ethan replied.

"Alright, when you're free, hit me up. I wanna crush you like I used to in tennis."

Ethan laughed, got in his car, and said, "We'll see if your old ass can keep up."

Then, Ethan sped off, heading toward his dad's house, which he hadn't seen in a while.