The hot and dry Los Santos air seemed to make Y/n Snider sweat as soon as it met her body. Having lived in Ludendorff all of her life she was unaccustomed to the heat, but somehow the way the sun beat down mercilessly onto her was exciting. It was a symbol of her escaping the past and her fresh start, something she had dreamed of for years prior. Her hometown, Ludendorff, was a small, cold town. Everyone knew everybody and their business, and with Y/n having an infamous family member, Bradley Snider, she could never escape the whispers that seemed to come every time she turned her back. So, she decided to go to the city that seemed to starkly contrast her hometown. Los Santos. The warm city with strangers upon strangers who wouldn’t have a clue who she was or would be too high to care.
Y/n spotted her cab and swiftly walked over, her head high as she tried to exude an air of confidence. She had heard the phrase “fake it till you make it” and ran with it, although she had to admit she felt a little idiotic. She exhaled in relief as she entered the taxi cab, enjoying the crisp air conditioned air as she told the cab driver the directions to the apartment she had rented in Vespucci beach. She had gotten it cheap due to the double homicide that had taken place just a few weeks ago. Y/n wasn’t the easily scared type, she could handle a murder house… just as long as the murderer didn’t come back.
The drive to her new place was uneventful and quick. After giving her driver a tip she made her way up the too many stairs and into the empty apartment, the light blue walls glaring at her as if she was an intruder. To her right she could see the scribbled out remains of Live, Laugh, Love over which Eat, Shit, Die was written. She stifled a laugh at the writing and began to unpack. It wasn’t a hard job, she didn’t bring much, just one suitcase of clothes. Y/n didn’t want to have to deal with things that would remind her of her former life in Ludendorff in fear that she might decide to go back and continue to live a boring tortuous decision in her brother’s shadow of infamy.
It wasn’t as if Y/n didn’t like her brother, she loved him and wrote to him all the time. But he was a famous bank robber, and it was hard for her to overcome that and make her own name for herself after he was sent to jail. All she was seen as was Brad Snider’s younger sister, the orphan just barely old enough to live on her own. She was lucky enough to have money her brother stashed away for her to get by until adulthood. She was 16 then, 26 now and it was the first time in her life she could be her own person.
“Welp, this is as good as it’s gonna get…” Y/n looked around the room, having done putting away her clothes. The apartment was empty except for a couch, bed, and the basic appliances that came with the place. It would be depressing if Y/n wasn’t so elated to be in a new place. Reaching her hand into her pocket and grabbing her wallet, Y/n looked at its contents.
“Enough for vodka, good. I’m going to start my time here in Los Santos right.”
- - -
The phone's ringtone echoed throughout the empty house, waking Michael from his drunken nap. He made his way through the beer bottles that littered the floor and picked up his phone, answering the FIB agent who’s name had flashed on the screen. “What is it Davey?”
“Michael, we have a problem. A big fucking problem.” spoke the familiar voice of Michaels somewhat friend Dave Norton.
“What is it Dave? Am I going to have to be an errand boy for the FIB again because I swear to fucking god-”
“No, no, it’s not that. It's Brad’s sister, Y/n Snider. I’ve been monitoring her and she’s here in Los Santos.” Michael nearly dropped his phone at those words. Y/n Snider was here in LS…
“You’re fucking A-right we’ve got a problem. What are we going to do about it?” He barked into the phone, feeling nervous. Everything could come crashing down if he ran into Y/n. Although she wasn’t lethal like Trevor she knew many people back in Ludendorff and if she spoke to one of them the whole operation was over.
“Well… we could assassinate her.” Dave suggested grimly.
“Oh god, fuck no!” Michael yelled in exasperation. “We’re not killing her, she’s fucking twenty six, she’s relatively harmless. Look… I’ll just deal with it when the time comes like I did with Trevor. That ended relatively well, as long as she doesn’t find out Brad is in my grave it’ll go okay. Just- don’t do anything rash” He sighed before hanging up and tossing the phone down onto the couch. He grabbed a half empty beer bottle and chugged the leftovers before tossing it aside. Things were not going well. First Trevor found him, then his family left, and now Y/n shows up in LS. He flopped onto the couch, massaging his temples. He didn’t know how he could handle all this.
It wasn’t as if Michael didn’t like Y/n, he did. He could remember the days they would go to plan or celebrate their heists at Brad’s place. Y/n was 16 then and would always stay attached to Brad’s hip. Brad was an asshole but Y/n was the only person who made him act nice. The whole crew appreciated her for that and would sneak her beers when Brad wasn’t looking or help her with her homework when they were able. She was sweet and caring, a stark contrast to Brad’s dick personality. Sometimes she would make the group cookies after a heist and sometimes Michael even suspected she had a crush on him as she would blush whenever they spoke. Of course nothing happened, he was nearing 30 and married with children, she was 16 and his “friend’s” sister. So no, Michael didn’t dislike Y/n, he was scared for what would happen when she discovered he lived and was cushy with the FIB.
Michael walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer. His past was catching up with him faster than he could handle. He popped off the lid and took a sip, leaning against the counter and hoping he could hold on while everything he built up was crashing down around him.
- - -
The liquor store was dingy, Y/n felt as if a layer of grime had settled on top of her skin as she entered. The linoleum floors were coated in a layer of dirt and mysterious stains and the paint on the green walls was peeling, each imperfection on them highlighted by the bright fluorescent lights which filled the store with a slight buzzing noise. She didn’t trust the alcohol here to be any good, but it was a cheap store and Y/n craved the shitty taste of cheap vodka.
John Wayne Was a Nazi played over the crackly speakers as she wandered the aisles, looking for the biggest bottle she could find. Y/n soon found it among the dilapidated wooden shelves, grabbing it in one hand and making her way to the counter, only to stop in her tracks when she saw someone holding a gun to the cashier. Holding her breath, Y/n hid behind the end on the wooden shelves, pulling out her phone to call the cops. As she was about to dial the last number the door chimed as someone walked in, seeming to not care about the robbery taking place.
“So, what’s this about? Did the poor cashier not pay you enough for your, um, services?” Spoke a teasing voice. In a way it seemed familiar to Y/n, but she couldn’t place where it had come from. She had to admit the man was an idiot, coming into a store where a robbery was taking place and then calling him a hooker.
“Get outta here! I’ll shoot!” Spoke the robber who seemed like he wasn’t cut out for the task from the way his voice trembled. Y/n peered over the side of the shelf she hid behind to try and get a glimpse of the scene. Instead she could only see the robber whose face was obscured by a black ski mask.
“I don’t have time for this shit.” Y/n heard the second man cock a gun, and then the loud bang of a gun firing. She let out a small yelp at the sight of the masked man slumping to the floor. Quickly she covered her mouth, but the man clearly heard as she could hear him slowly pick his way through the aisles.
“Oh we had an audience? Don’t you want to shake hands with the star of the show?” Y/n’s heart beat out of her chest as she stayed still, not wanting to take the risk of moving. Suddenly she felt her arm be grabbed by a calloused hand. Roughly she was yanked out of her hiding spot and face to face with-
“Trevor…?” She exhaled, looking into the older man’s eyes which seemed to soften at the sight of her. She hadn’t seen him in ten years, not since the cash depot heist which sent her brother to jail and killed his friend Michael. She had assumed he would be long dead, having bled out from his wounds or attacked by the fierce Ludendorff wildlife. “You’re alive…?”
Trevor opened his mouth to say something but closed it when the sound of sirens began to come close. He tightened his grip on Y/n’s arm and ran out of the store, dragging her with him while she continued to clutch the bottle of vodka she had picked out.
“Get in the truck!” He shouted to Y/n, pushing her to a red truck. Quickly Y/n listened, stumbling into the passenger seat. She saw Trevor roll something small that went undetected by the cops and hop into the driver’s seat, starting the car and speeding off. Behind them she heard the loud bang of an explosion. Trevor must have thrown a grenade. Y/n shuddered at the thought of so many people dying.
“So, what are you doing in LS? Don’t tell me you’ve come to audition for Fame or Shame.” He asked, spitting out the name of the show with disgust as he sped through the streets, narrowly avoiding cars and knocking over newspaper boxes. Y/n wondered how he could make such casual conversation after killing people.
Y/n a few minutes to respond, her breaths still heavy as she tried to catch up with what had happened. In her mind she could still see the dead bodies. “I, Uh-” she swallowed the lump in her throat. “I wanted to get away from Ludendorff, no one looked at me the same after Brad went to jail. I couldn’t handle being judged all the time. This place it-” She glanced behind her in the direction they came from, thinking of the dead cops. “It seemed like the opposite of Ludendorff, the best place for me to go.”
“Ha! It’s the opposite alright, but you’re not staying, you're going back to Ludendorff.” Trevor replied as he began to slow down. The sound of the sirens faded into nothing, leaving just the music on Channel X coming from Trevor’s radio in the background.
Those words were enough to snap Y/n out of the spaced out mindset she was trapped in. “What? Trevor no!” Y/n shouted. “I refuse to go back there!”
“Too bad sweetcheeks, it's better for you there. There’s some shit happening here and I know Brad wouldn’t want you to be a part of it.” he said stubbornly. His dedication to Brad would have made Y/n happy if it wasn’t his excuse to kick her out of the city.
“I’m not sixteen anymore! I’m twenty six. It doesn't matter what Brad wants. I love him but I’m old enough to choose what I want to do.” She retorted, desperate to stay. She couldn’t handle just being Brad’s sister, she wanted to be her own person and living in LS was her best chance of that.
“Alright alright. Fine you can stay.” Trevor relented suspiciously easily. Y/n eyed him carefully, knowing something was up. “However, I’m gonna keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t get into too much trouble… for Brad of course.”
Y/n frowned. Sure, it had been forever since she’s seen Trevor and she would love to spend more time with him, but if she remembered correctly Trevor was erratic and messy. She didn’t want him messing up her new apartment.
“Oh come on don’t give me that frown. Be happy, It’ll be you and me against the law! Well, you and me and the many pounds of crystal I have in the back.” Y/n let out a sigh in response to Trevor, not looking forward to being with her new babysitter.