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"Ah, wait, sh, sh, sh-" Trevor interrupted, holding up his hand. "Do you hear that?"
Franklin cocked a brow, looking around. They were hanging around in one of the bars down by the Del Perro, and as such, there were crowds of people, some mulling together in little clusters all through the pier. Plenty of conversations to latch onto, but Franklin couldn't seem to hear anything in particular over the drone of background noise, the wind, the clinking of drinks, the mumble of incoherent background conversations.
With a shrug, the young man looked at the eldest of the group. "I didn't hear anything."
"Neither did I," Michael added, a bite to his tone. "Now, as I was saying-"
"Hey, asshole, shut up," Trevor spat back. "I'm trying to listen here!"
"Listen to what?" Franklin asked.
"The voices in his head." Michael quipped.
"I'm listening," Trevor's eyes gazed up into the distance, voice and expression much softer now. "To our god."
"Like I said." Michael downed his scotch.
Franklin rubbed the back of his neck, trying to choose the right words in order to avoid setting the madman off. "Trevor, that doesn't sound… Healthy, you know? I think that's something you should bring up to a professional. This might be the understatement of the century, but that just don't sound right. Even for you."
"Kid, you're really gonna try to recommend psychiatry to this guy?"
"I'm talking like actual therapy, Mike. Not some dude who took a night class in psych and gets paid to tell old rich retirees what they wanna hear."
"Nuh-uh-uh, I've heard enough about Michael's sessions with Dr. Freeloader to know therapy ain't for me," Trevor flashed a toothy, manic grin, showing off his canines. "And besides, this is the real deal, baby! I know it."
Michael rolled his eyes. "There is no god."
Trevor shoved a finger in the man's face. "Blasphemer! And I'm not talking about God-god, Mikey. I'm talkin' about our god!"
Franklin shook his head, arms crossing over his chest. "And we're supposed to just know the difference?"
"The difference is that they aren't The Man Upstairs, no, no. You see, from what I gather and have heard from them, our world isn't a real world- well, it is real, but more… Miniature."
"I can't believe I'm listening to this shit." Michael rumbled, rubbing at his temples.
"It's a world inside a world. That's us. And the god I'm hearing is the god of this one. Our god."
"That's… One hell of a theory." Franklin chuckled nervously.
"Oh, it's not theory. It's fact. Cold and hard."
Well, hey, if it makes you feel better." Michael waved him off, the trio descending into silence.
Franklin sighed, hanging his head as he gave one final glance toward Trevor. "I'm just trying to look out for you, T. This kind of thing - it pops up around your age. Just wanna keep you aware, maybe get it checked out."
"It's a noble effort, kid, but T here is a lost cause."
Trevor bared his teeth. "Between the three of us here, Mikey, I think it's crystal fuckin' clear that the only lost cause here is you."
A tense silence overcame the trio.
Franklin ducked his head down under the weight of the tension, flipping through the contacts on his phone. Maybe he could hook up with Lamar, maybe get him to finally start training Chop - and even if not, it'd give him a good excuse to get out of there. As much as he liked spending time with the two older men, situations between could turn… Tumultuous rather quickly. It was best to read the warning signs and act accordingly before the whole thing blew up in his face.
Flitting his gaze from Michael to Trevor, everything was screaming at Franklin that now was the time to book it.
The young man stood, straightening his clothes to try to busy himself - and hide the slight anxiousness. "It's been cool hanging with y'all again, but I gotta head out."
"Aw, c'mon, Frankie!" Trevor whined. "Don'tcha wanna hear what they're sayin'?"
Michael pulled down his shades, sighing as he reclined further in his seat. "If your so-called god is anything like you, I already have a feeling I know what it is."
"You see, it's shit like this is why you're their least favorite."
"I rest my case. And I assume you're the favorite?"
A big, genuine smile overwhelmed Trevor's expression. "Yes. Yes! And I am so fucking lucky. No one's ever, ever talked to me the way they do. Every praise, every compliment, every laugh, every joke, every command… I cherish it all. Oh, and every time they say they love me, I-" The man paused, voice choking as his throat tightened with emotion. "They think I'm perfect. Me. Someone as perfect, a god..."
Ignoring Michael's stifled laughter, Trevor then turned to the youngest of their group. "You're a close second though, Frank."
The younger man gave a chuckle. "Appreciate it."
"Hey, thank them! Their words, not mine!"
"Of course the only god you'd believe in is one that worships mass murderers." Michael commented.
Immediately, Trevor whipped around to face Michael, leaning up close, jabbing his finger in the other man's face and practically spitting with the force of his words. "First off, you fuck, only they are deserving of worship.
The madman stumbled back a bit, breathing heavily. "Secondly, you have no idea the depths of their mercy. Michael, if they desired it, I'd fucking kill you. I'd- I'd fucking strangle you, shoot you so fucking full of lead that even if I tried to cut you apart and ship you all over the world so your family couldn't put the pieces together for your actual funeral, it'd still light up the fucking metal detectors! I'd fucking violate your corpse, and I'd do it all in their name, the name of our god!"
It was time for Franklin to leave. He had seen everything.
"Alright, like I said, I'm heading out. It's been… Uh, something."
"You sure you can't stay for some more enlightening? In my opinion, it is imperative that more people realize how much love and worship they need to show them."
"I'm good, Trev, appreciate the offer, though," Franklin passed by the man, offering him a wave goodbye. "How about you, Mike? You need a ride?"
"Nah, don't worry. Ain't nothing I haven't heard before. Hell, I think I'll indulge him, even." Michael signaled a waiter for a refill.
"Now you're talking sense!" Trevor chimed.
As he made his way to the front of the establishment, Franklin shook his head. Maybe he should keep a distance from his two friends for a minute. As much as he cared for them, and worried about them, some things weren't sticking his nose into.. And whatever freak shit Trevor was a part of, count him out. Maybe it was something to do with that cult up in the mountains? He knew Trevor would sometimes bring them "lost souls" in exchange for cash.
As Franklin crossed the barrier between the bar and the outside world, he let out a heavy sigh. His eyes squinted as the sun blinded him momentarily.
He wasn't sure if he believed in a god. At least, not the kind Trevor preached about. But, if there was, he hoped it was one that could keep Trevor in check.