![]() “I don’t really know what i want to dream of” he breathed out a laugh. “Nope, i just want to be in my bed, asleep, dreaming of… of…” The only thing he could come up with on the spot was Michael. “Do you need to stop anywhere before we take you home?” Ron asked as they entered the very edge of Los Santos. He didn’t feel like he needed to say anything, just stare out the window at the sand and dead bushes they passed. ![]() Ron drove him home with the only sound coming from the car was the soft classic rock music playing on the radio. He was proud of himself for staying sober for so long, it was his first birthday in 30 years he was sober the entire day. Trevor, though, proudly walked to Ron’s car in a straight line. Around midnight everyone started to leave slowly, some in pairs, some needing to be dragged out because they drank, smoked, or snorted too much of a substance.
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