Part 10. Mission: Five Stars.

Trisha sat at the table, the art table in the living room, she was minding her own business, hoping no one found out about the soda machine thing, when Jazmine and Olive sat down on both sides of her. She looked up at them, concerned.

"What?"

"We just want to tell you how awesome you are," Jazmine said, with a smile.

"Yeah...not everyone can be someone's look-out," Olive added. Trisha smiled, shrugging.

"I really didn't do anything..."

"Oh, please!" Jazmine expressed, pushing Trisha's shoulder lightly. "Don't be modest!"

"We were thinking you could help us with something else," Olive said, excited, Jazmine looked across at her, with a stern look. Olive shrugged her off. "Phoebe, you know her right?"

"Yeah, she half owns this place, is married to Dean...we had my second interview with them," Trisha said, worried, even more now, but interested to see why Olive was talking about her.

"Of course you did..." Olive laughed at her dumbness. "Anyway, I was listening to my ICase a few weeks ago and Phoebe came in and took it off me. I want it back!"

"Trisha was surprised by this, Pheobe seemed pretty nice to her. "Why'd she do that?"

"You know how they want you to be at a five star, yeah?" Olive asked, as Trisha nodded along. It was true, they wanted you to get five stars everyday, each star represented different things, like your chores, how you treat the other kids and such. Trisha had been a three steady, so far. "Well, I got a zero and...apparently zero's can't listen to music."

"She took it to the office," Jazmine added. "If you can distract Rachael tomorrow me and O can sneak in and get it back."

"Won't they notice it's gone?" Trisha asked, very, very unsure about this. "Why don't you just wait for her to given it back?"

"She won't, they never remember stuff like this," Jazmine explained. "They're dumb-asses."

"Yeah," Olive agreed. "I'll just take it home the next time we're off."

"So...you'll help us?"

Trisha's heart beat faster, oh...she didn't want to, but Jazmine and Olive really seemed to like her. "Okay...fine, I guess." They cheered and Jazmine punched Trisha in the shoulder. She couldn't help but feel sick at the thought of tomorrow, she only half heartedly smiled back. Why was she so dumb?

"Trisha?" Miss Tudor called, suddenly, making her jump, did she know? As she turned around and looked at her though, she was smiling sweetly. "It's your dad."

Trisha wanted to ask which one, but didn't, that would be weird...shouldn't she just know which one it was? She stood up and took the phone from her. "Hello?

"Hellllloo, Honey Buns!" she heard Trevor's grough, annoying, voice on the other end. She sighed.

"Hi, Trevor." She smiled at Miss Tudor's curious look and walked back over to the table and sat.

"How are you?" Trevor asked, more serious now. "It's been a week and I haven't heard anything...I don't like that!"

"Sorry...I was really busy," Trisha lied, she really hadn't been all that busy. "How are you?"

"Oh...great, I made Franklin a profile on a dating site."

"Why?" Trisha asked, she found that weird, but it was Trevor, after all.

"He needs a wife," Trevor explained. "He knows about it."

"Oh, that's good, at least he knows..." Trisha trailed off. Trevor laughed, for apparently no reason.

"I'm messaging all the old ladies in Los Santos for him...he needs a mature lady in his life."

"No!" Trisha retorted. "He needs babies."

"He could adpot!"

"Trevor! Trisha said, sternly. She could hear him sigh over-dramatically. "Okay...if they're pretty, but only if they're pretty!"

"Every woman is pretty in their own way, Trisha, remember that," Trevor told her. "If any guy tells you otherwise I'll rip out his throat!"

Trisha laughed, dryly, "That would have been really nice except for the last part..."

"Five minutes, Trisha!" Miss Tudor called.

"I gotta go," Trisha said. "Don't kill anyone and stop trying to hook F up with crusties, okay?"

"I can't promise either, Baby Girl," Trevor retorted. "Call soon."

"Okay..." Trisha said, but had no intention to, and then hung up. Olive and Jazmine, who were still sitting there, stared at her.

"That was your dad?" Olive asked, Trisha nodded. "Wow...you talk to him like that?"

"We have a odd relationship."

XXX

Trevor hung up the phone, feeling a bit empty inside, he really didn't like being alone anymore, he used to. He looked down at his laptop, signed into Franklin's dating site again. He was browsing through profiles now, bored.

"RON!" Trevor shouted. As he clicked next, he heard bangs and crashing coming from next door, he rolled his eyes, as he hit next again. Suddenly a picture caught his eye. She looked like a deranged peacock in this picture, but it couldn't be anyone else. All that work she's done on her body...yet never fixed that nose. ROOOOOOOOON!"

"What, Trevor?' Ron said, with labored breath, as he crashed through Trevor's door.

"Look at this!" Trevor said, turning the computer toward him. "It says she was active six hours ago!"

"I d-...I don't know her, Trevor," Ron muttered. "Is she a friend of yours?"

Trevor knew what Ron was implying. "Nooo!" he retorted. "She's no friend of mine. That's Michael's wife!"

"Oh..." Ron became flustered. "...so?"

"IT'S A DATING SITE!" Trevor roared. "Is nothing sacred anymore?!"

"But, Trevor, you said you don't believe in marriage?"

Trevor glared daggers. "I don't!" Trevor stood up, throwing his computer aside. "But, for some fucked up reason Mikey does!"

"Oh..." Ron nearly moaned. "Are you going to tell him?"

"I don't know..." Trevor muttered, thinking. "Get me a beer."

"Of course..." Ron muttered, turning to the fridge.

XXX

Michael walked into Trevor's strip club, glasses on, but the door greater still said. "Afternoon, Mr. De Santa," which made Michael realize that this wasn't a movie, and people would still know him. He only hoped no one told Amanda he was here again. He walked into the back, where Trevor sat behind the desk in the office, on the computer. He turned it off and jumped back when he noticed Michael there.

"Oh, come on, T, I'm not your mom, I don't care if you were watching porn," Michael joked, but Trevor didn't laugh. "What's wrong now?"

Trevor only stared at him for a long moment, making Michael uneasy, before he finally spoke. "Mikey..." Trevor stood up and walked over to him. Michael had no idea what was happening. "I don't know how to say this..."

"Just say it, Trevor," Michael said, he couldn't take this, whatever the fuck it was. "Whatever it is can't be that bad."

"Oooh...it's bad, Mike," Trevor explained. "You're not gonna like it."

"Just fuckin' tell me already!"

"Michael, your...-"

"My fucking WHAT, T?!"

"..your family is an asshole."

"Oh my god!" Michael retorted, almost in a shout, Trevor smiled, if only slightly, at this. "This bullshit again? You almost gave me a fuckin' heart attack!"

"Look, Mike," Trevor said, seriously. "You don't need 'em. They're losers. They're holding you back, using you."

"Listen," Michael said. He didn't like what Trevor was saying, but he could sense the heart was in it. "I appreciate it, but it's fine. Families fight, T, but we'll get through it, we always do."

"That's bullshit, Michael," Trevor retorted, darkly. "You won't get over it, you'll just bury it under the rug like everything else!"

"You don't know that!" Michael fought back, getting angry this time. Trevor really had no business saying any of this anyway. "Why don't you back the fuck off? I don't know who the fuck you think you are..."

"You're god damn best friend!" Trevor fought back, looking very pissed off, suddenly. "Not that you give a single FUCK about me, you brainwashed piece of shit!"

"Hey!" Michael shouted. "You're the one that called me down here to tell me my family are assholes! AGAIN!"

"BECAUSE THEY ARE ASSHOLES, MICHAEL!" Trevor shouted, louder, back. "FUCKING ASSHOLES!"

"GO FUCK YOURSELF!"

"NO!" Trevor yelled, following Michael out, as he kicked open the back door and walked outside."YOU GO FUCK YOURSELF!"

Michael ignored him, as he walked around the building and got into his car. He couldn't help but laugh a little, as he drove off. "This fuckin' lunatic..."

XXX

Trisha walked into the office, not sure exactly how she was going to distract Rachael, and Olive's thumbs up didn't really help any, as she closed the door behind her. Rachael was sitting at the desk, as always. She looked up, with a raised eyebrow, when she noticed Trisha there.

"Yes?" she asked, lips pursed together. Trisha took a deep breath, saying the first thing that came to mind.

"I hate my dads..." Rachael's eyes widened a little. Trisha continued. "I wanted to talk to Doctor Frielander about it..."

"That's something you need to tell Miss Tudor, so she can send an email," Rachael explained. Trisha nodded, but she needed to get Rachael out of the main part of the office, so Jazmine and Olive could find the ICase.

"Can I just talk to you about it?" she asked, with a pleading stare. "My dad called last night and..."

"Oh...I see," Rachael said, standing up and taking that journal she liked to write in so much. Trisha smirked to herself, as she followed Rachael down the hall. That was a lot easier than she thought...

XXX

"Fuck...man, what the fuck are you gonna do?" Franklin asked, as Trevor showed him Amanda's dating profile. Trevor shrugged, as he stood up from Franklin's dining table.

"I tried to tell him but I fucking chocked!" Trevor shouted."CHOCKED!"

Franklin nodded, with a smile, which Trevor glared at him for. "Sorry, Homie, just you always say whatever the fuck you want, for you to choke, it..."

"It means I fucking care?!" Trevor retorted. "I know...I hate it!"

"We just gotta tell Michael together-"

"Tell Michael what?"

The two looked up to see Michael walking in, through Franklin's front door. They both froze.

"Me and F, we're in love..."

"Like fuck we are!" Franklin ruined it, Trevor glared at him again. So, Trevor tried another tactic.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Michael?!"

Michael paused, as he walked near them. Franklin quickly jumped forward and turned off his computer. Michael looked at him strange.

"What the fuck is going on?" he asked, instead of answering Trevor's question. "What are you two not tellin' me?"

Franklin and Trevor looked at each other, Franklin looked as perplexed as Trevor felt. He hated it, it was so unlike himself to actually care, he hated caring. He hated people who cared.

"Fuck off, Mike," Trevor told him. Maybe if he pissed him off enough he would just leave. "No one gives a flying fuck about you or your opinion. Me and F will figure our own shit out! Right, Frank?!"

"Um.,.ef-" Franklin didn't even try. Michael's face turned dark, his eyes clouded. Trevor could tell he was getting him there, just a little bit more and they would be in a screaming match.

"No one wanted you to show up!" Trevor exclaimed, throwing his hands around. "You fucking door-mate!"

"Go fuck yourself!" Michael retorted. "I didn't come here to see you! I came to see Franklin!"

"Yeah?" Trevor shot back. "He doesn't want to see you!"

"I never fuckin' said-" But Franklin was cut off. He looked very alarmed.

"Excuse me..." Michael trailed off, dangerously. "I didn't know you two were so fucking close now!"

"WE ARE!" Trevor roared back. "WE DON'T NEED A BACK STABBER AS A FRIEND ANYMORE!"

Michael paused, again, looking very hurt, but also, even more so pissed off. He took a step nearer, toward Trevor, and quickly Franklin blocked him.

"Whoa...M, Chill the fuck out-"

"I SHOULD HAVE KILLED YOU IN NORTH YANKTON WHEN I HAD THE FUCKIN' CHANCE, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"

"M, c'mon, man-"

"I SHOULD HAVE KILLED YOU TWENTY YEARS AGO BEFORE YOU HAD THE CHANCE TO FUCK ME OVER!"

"And I should've killed both ya'lls bitch asses when I had every motherfucker and their fuckin' brother tellin' me to!" Franklin retorted, taking his hands and pushing at both of them, to back off. Trevor did, looking hurt toward Franklin, hand over his chest.

"Why would you say that?!" he demanded. Franklin seemed to realize himself and frowned.

"Ya'll are just a lot sometimes..." He muttered, Michael laughed.

"We're more than a lot," he said, with a, very unexpected, smile toward Trevor. "We're in-fucking-sane!"

Trevor shrugged and grinned at that, as he hadn't really ever been angry anyway, again, very unusual for him. "Speak for yourself, Mikey."

Michael nodded, looking amused still. "Whatever you say, T..."