Everyone in the crew had a fallback plan in case shit went south. Michael would be an electrician, Jack always wanted to work in radio, and Gavin would be a cameraman on films. Jeremy mentioned something about how he went to school for animation and Ryan perked up and went “Hey, me too!”
When someone asks Trevor what his fallback plan was, he shrugs and goes “I got my degree in aerospace engineering” and everyone stops to look at him.
“Like… like rocket science?”
“You can make rockets and here you are, doing crime?”
“C'mon, when’s the last time NASA was funded? If anything, I made a completely reasonable career choice.”
Geoff doesn’t gamble often (he leaves that to Jack and the lads), but sometimes when he sees a sure thing he’ll throw a few large bills down. Most of the time it pays off, other times he’s lucky to leave having broken even, but at the end of the day it’s just money. He can’t take it with him when he dies, he might as well use it while he has it.
Tonight he’s feeling lucky, has a few thousand burning a hole in his pocket, and it’s fight night down at the local gym. Two or three times a month, the owner opens the doors to the public and shows off some of his boxers. Strictly speaking, betting isn’t allowed, but for a few hundred dollars the owner looks the other way. Everyone in Los Santos is greedy, they just have to be offered the right price.
It’s loud inside the gym when Geoff and his crew walk in, cheers and jeers from the crowd encouraging the two men fighting in the ring. Jack mentions something about going to place a bet, already disappearing into the crowd before anyone can respond. Michael heads towards the makeshift bar for a drink, Gavin on his heels, while Ryan and Ray follow Geoff towards the ring.
The fight is mostly over, both guys bloody and sweaty, no doubt running on autopilot. The final blow sends one fighter crashing to the mat, the other folding in on himself, hands on his knees, chest heaving, and the crowd explodes.
The winner straightens up, lifting a fist above his head, and the screams get louder. The loser is dragged off the mat, leaving behind a trail of blood.
After the mat is cleaned a man gets into the ring. Geoff recognizes him as the owner, having had a few run ins with him over the years. A hush falls over the crowd when the guy raises his hand, and he smirks over his shoulder at a woman standing off to the side. She winks back at him, melting into the crowd, and the owner returns his attention to the crowd.
“I find it hard to believe you all are here for some two-bit fighters,” he starts letting his eyes scan the crowd. “I know why you’re here, you know why you’re here, so let’s get this show on the road.”
The crowd cheers when the lights dim, and Geoff looks around, intrigued. This is new, at least it’s never happened when he’d been here in the past, and he can’t help feeling a little excited.
“Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, I give you…. LITTLE J!” The crowd gets louder, if that’s at all possible, and the lights brighten once more as a new guy jumps into the ring.
He’s short, that’s the first thing Geoff notices about him, and young. He looks a bit like a kid brother, maybe a tag along cousin, and for the life of him, Geoff cannot figure out what’s so special about this kid.
It’s pretty obvious this kid’s special the moment he starts fighting. His challenger is bigger than him, but Little J is fast and wily, his blows landing quick and hard. He’s had training, a lot of training, and Geoff’s impressed.
“He’s good,” he hears Ryan say behind him and Ray murmurs in agreement.
The fight lasts fifteen minutes, Little J’s opponent hitting the mat with an audible thud, and a deafening scream erupts from the crowd.
“I don’t know if Geoff wants to recruit this guy or suck his dick,” Ray says and Ryan starts laughing.
“Fuck off,” Geoff grumbles stalking away from them, following the owner and Little J into the back of the gym.
He finds Little J sitting alone, unwrapping his hands. He looks up when Geoff enters the room and says, “Hey, I know you. You’re Geoff Ramsey.”
“That is my name. I’d be more surprised if you didn’t know me,” Geoff replies leaning against the wall. “Impressive fight.”
“Nah, that’s just a regular Friday for me.” Little J balls the tape up, tossing it into the trash can in the corner of the room. He sniffs, wiping blood off his face. “No one has ever asked for an autograph, but if you want me to give you one…”
“I was actually wondering if you’d like a job.”
Confused, wary, Little J says, “What?”
Geoff crosses the room, holding out a business card, making a mental note to never, ever tell Gavin these were a good idea. He waits for Little J to take it, and when he does Geoff knows the kid is interested.
“Give me a call.” He then turns, heading out of the room and into the crowd, stopping short when his cell buzzes against his leg. An unknown number flashes back at him when he checks the screen, and he ducks into a bathroom, answering with a cautious, “Hello?”
“Alright, so I thought about it,” Little J says excitedly, “and I’m in.”