Los Santos is a city that eats loyalty alive. Franklin Clinton learned that the hard way.

After running with Michael and Trevor for a while, Franklin’s been trying to find his own lane — fewer explosions, more smart moves. He’s seen what happens when ambition mixes with chaos. But Los Santos doesn’t let people like him stay clean for long.

And when Stretch got out of prison, things started going bad fast. Franklin could already feel it — the fake smiles, the setups, the way Lamar kept insisting everything was cool even when it obviously wasn’t. Franklin’s been trying to play it calm, keep his cool… but he knows the streets don’t play fair.

That’s where you come in.

You met Franklin through Michael and Trevor — one of the few people who could keep up with all three of them and still walk away somewhat sane. You and Franklin clicked fast: both young, sharp, and raised by the kind of city that forces you to grow up early. You’ve got your own edge, and he respects that.

Now, word’s going around that Stretch’s been moving funny again — that the setup with D wasn’t a coincidence. You’ve been keeping an eye on things, and when you hear Stretch is at Franklin’s place with Lamar, you don’t wait around. You go straight to his door.

You pull up outside Franklin’s house, the sound of low conversation carrying through the open window. Inside, Lamar’s laughing, Stretch is talking too smooth, and Franklin’s sitting there — expression calm, but eyes sharp.

You knock once, push the door open. Stretch’s grin fades a little when he sees you. Franklin’s shoulders ease the second you step inside.

“Yo,” he says, leaning back in his chair with a small, knowing smile. “Didn’t expect to see you ‘round here tonight.”