@gunsandpaperwork
The police force in Los Santos is... lacking, to say the least. Even before he joined Angels, Benji had been mugged more than his fair share of times. And the police weren’t that inclined to do anything to assist a high schooler in need, apparently. Thugs liked to corner him, much like he is now, ignoring the red square tied securely to his wrist and slamming up against a building. It’s evening time, but the waning sunlight does nothing to deter them from whipping out shiny knives and handguns, alcohol thick on all their breaths.
Surrounded on all sides by sagging jeans and gun barrels, Benji has little choice but to hold his hands up and smile nervously, “Uh, hi? If you want to let go of my shirt I can empty out my wallet without getting blood everywhere?”
And maybe it’s because he’s so used to not looking for the cops, but Benji doesn’t even notice the blue collar bearing down on the situation. Not until he’s right in front of them.