Chapter Text
It was a cliché story really. You wanted to be an actress. So you left your home in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere to pursue your dream in Los Santos, the City of Stars. And crime, but you focussed on the star thing. But, like most, your dreams were crushed when you didn’t get a call back on your first audition. And again on your second. Same story on your third. Fourth, fifth, sixth, etc., etc. Eventually you stopped keeping count. And without a job and living in Los Santos, even in the shittiest of apartments, your savings disappeared fast. Eventually your landlord kicked your sorry ass out. And what did you do? Go home and call that dream failed like a sensible person? Nope. Like hell you were crawling back home, tail between your legs!
Griffon found you two weeks in on the streets. You’d been intimidated by her at first, what with her half-shaved head, tattoos and piercings. That lasted about two point five seconds, then she gave you that soft, disarming smile that had you trusting her rather quickly. Despite the dirt and grime, the gauntness of your face from eating so much less, Griffon found you pretty enough to work for her. And that’s how you found yourself working as a stripper in Los Santos. To be fair, if it had been any other strip joint asking you to work for them, you probably would have told whatever greasy-sleazeball who ran the joint to kindly fuck off. But Griffon is a good boss. Everyone knows not to mess with Griffon’s girls, lest you face the wrath of Griffon and her multitude of chainsaws. Why she has one let alone many, you’ll never know. So, end of the day, being a stripper wasn’t the worst thing you could have ended up as. At least you weren’t a bank teller. Still, you lived in a shabby, at best, apartment with little to no spare income to be spent on luxuries or hobbies. You worked weird hours. And, despite Griffon’s best efforts, every now and again you had to deal with an overly creepy asshole.
So while you didn’t really mind your job, the romantic, sappy part of you still wishes that a knight in shining armor will come along and whisk you off your feet and off to a better life. Instead you got a gangster in a purple hoodie.