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skizzle

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  1. Meet Mr. Klein. About 2 years ago this fresh face moved to the city with no friends, no job, and empty pockets. The opportunity to leave his home town and pursue something great at the ripe age of 20 wasn't optional. His family disapproved and called him foolish, but he had to leave his boring past behind. Joey couldn't hide his smile as the wheels skid along the runway. He stepped out of the terminal and there it fucking was. Los Santos. After checking out of the airport and getting his license, he ran over to Low End and found a rusty '86 Karin Futo with 15 waifu stickers on the rear fenders. Joey didn't know much at the time; what he was going to do with his life was hardly even a thought in his head. He was just happy to spend his first night letting MRPD farm tickets off of him while speeding and drifting the streets of Los Santos. Life could not get better. The next morning Joey woke up and spent all day and night doing freelance work up North. Bus driving, hunting, farming, trucking, rinse, repeat. Joey loved the grind. He spent months going between Paul's farm and the Paleto hunting grounds, but the feeling of jealousy would always overcome him as he drove past Bayview. "One day..." he thought. "I'll have my own wrenches, my own Sultan, my own garage, my own clients" Joey had a thirst that could only be quenched by grease. He would spend hours at Bayview asking questions, sweeping the floor, watching the mechanics, doing just about anything to get noticed there, but he was never taken seriously or respected by anyone. Joseph felt left out. He wasn't cool, he didn't have any friends, constantly got robbed and scammed, spent all his money on car parts, maidenless, in and out of prison, the list just went on. Joseph was simply down bad, and had been for weeks. "Maybe this place isn't for me after all" he said while sipping on an XL Margarita, "What do you think?" he asked the bartender who stared lifelessly into Joey's soul without uttering a word. Joey sighed and called himself a taxi to the airport. As he arrived he thanked the driver and took a look back at the city one last time before heading into the terminal, the feeling of deja vu overcame his body. It was so surreal and nostalgic seeing the city from the gates again. He cried his last LS tears and reluctantly boarded his flight home. Pockets empty, license suspended, pride swallowed. Life could not get worse. Back home he met back up with his old friends, got a retail job, and lived life slow for a while. He didn't seem to mind. Maybe LS truly wasn't for him. While he was working the register one day he heard an ad on the radio for a concert in Los Santos. He paused for a second to reminisce on the good times and went back to working. A customer noticed this change in behavior and asked if he had ever been. Joey hesitantly nodded his head. The customer smirked and introduced himself. Let’s call him Big A. He expressed an interest in buying property in LS and how he intended to make the money. Joey was intrigued. Big A said to be ready early the next day and by noon Joey could smell the sewers of LS once again. This time will be different, he thought. Joey and Big A were a solid duo. They kept quiet, made their money, and bought the apartment within the month. Joseph had never tasted blood more than he did in that moment, but Big A was quite the opposite. He was comfortable and happy where he was, but Joey knew there was always room for improvement. This philosophical difference was the driving force that split them apart. Big A disappeared after about a month and Joey continued to live out of their apartment. For a long time after this Joey hopped around different gangs and groups, dabbling in the lifestyle, but never fully committing. Meeting new people was his only goal. And meet new people he did. First was meeting T Jams and joining the Ballas for about 3 days. Then T Jams introduced Joey to a crew that was due to hit stores which is where he met Tyrone Homes. As soon as they began working together, they left Ballas and got more shit done in three days than Joey had ever done in his life. Not even a week later this empty apartment now had safes, guns, drugs, everything Joseph had ever wanted. He immediately saw how valuable of a contact Tyrone was and gave him the keys to his apartment. "Your problems are my problems." Joey would say. He knew it would be worth the risk. And it was. This tight bond is the reason Joey has anything to show for himself. Without Tyrone, Joey never would have met Alyssa Haze. Which leads to the final piece of this story: THC Joining Haze has been the best experience of Joey's life so far. The family, the connections, the mutual respect, the professionalism, everything. It was exactly what Joey had been looking for. They make money, they stay professional, they get shit done. Joey loved this group and was willing to do whatever it took to stick around. He finally felt respected, he finally felt like someone would notice if he disappeared, and he finally had a family. Life could not get better.
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