Chapter Text
Franklin jolted awake.
His phone was blaring his ringtone at maximum volume. Why did he leave that as his ringtone again? Maybe he was morally (or legally) obligated to use it so they referenced GTA 3.
Picking up his phone, he stared at the time. 12:57. The middle of the night. A little inconvenient; he was really a night owl at times, but he had really wanted to catch up on some sleep tonight. His ringtone was still blaring. It was a call from Michael.
He picked up the call. “Michael, man. You need something?”
Michael’s voice came through, audibly frantic and stressed. “Frank. I really, and I mean really need your help.”
Franklin sat up. “You alright? If you’re in a fight or running from the cops, I-“
Michael cut him off. “No, no! It’s…even worse. Just hear me out. It’s…about Trevor.”
Franklin sighed and sunk back into the bed. “Is he kidnapping wives again? Cooking meth? Fucking over minorities? Fucking minorities? Eating people?”
Michael groaned. “For once, It’s none of those.” He took a deep breath. “Trevor asked me out on a date. And…god, fuck my life…I accepted.”
That was mildly shocking. Only the accepting part was really a surprise; the actual date proposal was inevitable. Michael was fighting the demons of bisexuality and losing the battle. “It’s one in the morning, and you’re telling me you got a date with a sociopath. How the hell did you even get into that situation?”
Michael let out a loud groan. “So, APPARENTLY, a long long time ago in a random town far far away, Trevor came up to me. He told me that I owed him a date because he saved my ass during a robbery or something. Guess I wasn’t paying attention or something, because I apparently just…accepted. Now he comes up to me, over ten fucking years later, telling me I accepted and that I am now morally obligated to go on a date with him”
“Oh, well congratulations man. Good luck.” Franklin was just about to hang up the phone when Michael frantically came through the phone, sounding more stressed than he had ever been in a looong time.
“Franklin, you don’t get it! I’m 1. Not into guys. 2. Not into Trevor. 3. Never been on a date with a guy. Because of point 1. I hate to bother but I really need your help.”
This is coming from the guy who cheated on his wife and has probably had sex with at least 10 different strippers at least 10 different times EACH in at least 10 different positions by the way. WOW.
“Just tell him if you don’t want to go on the fuckin date man! It’s that simple. Don’t have a heart attack, wait another 20 years for that shit.”
“If I don’t, he’ll just do something dumb. Like kidnapping another housewife. And you know how much shit that got us in before! I genuinely have to go!” Then, as if realizing he was starting to sound like a hypocrite, attempted to backtrack. “Or, well-I don’t HAVE to but I think it would save a lot of lives if I went.”
“Michael, you are seriously worked up about this. And suspiciously stubborn about going. Despite you saying all this stuff about not wanting to go. You might want to reconsider point one.”
Another sigh from Michael. “Just…please Franklin??? Maybe you could just come along? Drive us around? Any way you can help would be greatly appreciated. I can pay you however much you need.”
God fucking damnit. Franklin rolled over. “Alright man, I’ll see what I can do.” God, Michael was a smart guy, but when it came to his possible attraction to guys, whether it was a joke or not, he was usually either freaking out or dead silent, and his IQ dropped to room temperature numbers.
He hung up. Guess I gotta help Michael with his date. Yeah, Michael’s in denial. Deep, deep, dark and gritty denial.