I am in LOVE with the night club au. I would love to see more of it if you ever felt like it. I know you mentioned them sitting through a police raid... Also I love when you do fahc from an outsider's perspective, it's so good and so enjoyable. Keep up the good work :)
Thanks so much! I really didn’t stick to
the perspective as well as i meant to but i just wanted to knock something out
without going back to fix it so it is what it is.
As for the raid, well. Normally Geoff’s contacts are enough to keep that sort of thing from happening no matter what kind of business he’s meddling in, but every now and then someone fresh and optimistic comes along trying to change the world, or one of Geoff’s crooked pals forgets what they owe him, and the club is subjected to a night of privacy infringement and poorly veiled insults courtesy of Los Santos’ finest. The notoriety of a raid never hurts FAKE’S business but any night spent entertaining the boys in blue is a night not spent raking in the cash from the public, and that just does not make Geoff a happy man.
Still, when the police descend and pull him from his office Geoff stays cool and calm and infuriatingly smug, Jack professional and blasé at his side, and the pair conduct every interview with the perfect polish of upstanding citizens despite everyone in the room knowing they are as guilty as sin. They’ll smile, will answer questions as their property is invaded and their people are harassed, they’ll pointedly refrain from mentioning that the police chief is a close friend of the business, and no matter how thorough the search is they’ll never be caught with a scarp of incriminating evidence.
None of the casual workers have anything to say, not privy to any of the background business, but even if they were they’re all smart enough to keep their mouths shut, and all too soon they’re deemed useless and sent on their way. Steffie and Matt tend to play themselves out with the crowd and laugh at the others come morning, saved yet again by their ability to refrain from stirring up a hornet’s nest, avoiding aggravating the cops in a way the rest of the FAKE’S crew is oddly incapable of.
The main team are not so lucky, though for the most part they bring it on themselves; intentionally infuriating and insufferably cocky they all toy with any member of law enforcement they’re faced with no matter the rank, daring them to bite back, safe in the confidence that there’s no trouble Geoff and Jack can’t get them out of. Corralled to the side of the bar to await their questioning and watch the raid unfold not one of FAKE’S diehard employees can refrain from commentating, calling out particular officers who look like they’re slacking or making suggestions of places to look, slouched together in their insolence, collectively laughing off every attempt to bring them into order.
Ryan, Jeremy and Michael always play their interviews the exact same way; stoic and unimpressed with crossed arms, incredulous looks and just enough menace to keep things interesting without tipping all the way into threat. Lindsay and Mica swing from overtly airheaded to ruthlessly clever brutally enough to keep any member of law enforcement too busy trying to dig themselves out of the pit of offensively sexist stereotyping to bother collecting any viable information. Trevor pleasantly answers every question without ever actually answering a single question, and Gavin is, as always, a menace. All big guileless eyes and affinity for starting trouble he pokes and prods, taunts and teases, chewing up and spitting out officers like they’re regular patrons of the club, but the detectives are another matter altogether. They always circle back to Gavin, closeness to Geoff making him a prime candidate for interrogation, and for all Gavin hates them they tend to hate him right back, or pity him, or on one notable occasion that instantly turned the tone of the room from amused to quietly furious, call him all kinds of unpleasant names casting aspersions on his character and role at the club.
That particular detective didn’t last long; for all he mocked Michael’s sudden snarling appearance and Gavin’s scathing response, sneer only wobbling in the face of the cold, silent judgement of the FAKE’S around him, he wasn’t laughing when Geoff caught up to him later. Wasn’t laughing when he slunk back into the club the next night, face burning with humiliation as he issued a full blown apology in front of everyone, suffering through Gavin’s haughty dismissal and turning on his heel to leave. He certainly wasn’t laughing when Ryan, Michael and Jeremy sprung into motion at a nod from Geoff, effortlessly cutting through the rolling crowd like wolves as they silently followed the detective out into the night. Safe inside the dancers keep dancing, keep drinking and flirting with the staff, keep gossiping about FAKE’S latest brush with the law as they pour their hard earned cash into the club, utterly oblivious to the free lesson in minding one’s manners that is transpiring in the unlit alley out back.