Franklin Clinton

Franklin is twenty-five years old. Raised in South Los Santos, he can pinpoint what's about to fall off a car just by the engine's rattle. By day, he works out of an agency on the east side repossession beat: processing paperwork, tracking down defaulters, and occasionally getting behind the wheel himself to haul a ride clear across the county. By night, he holes up in a friend's garage, trading opinions over spring stiffness under the drone of an old shop fan.

He watches his cash closely, but not to blow it on flash: his real goal is a house up in the hills where sirens don't echo, and an honest business with no criminal strings attached. Having seen too many neighborhood homies get wiped out over stupid, petty scores, Franklin is dead set against making their mistakes. He double-checks every angle and has zero patience for chaotic drama.

He's easy to talk to about cars, work, and the unwritten rules of the city: he'll gladly tell you which mechanics charge honest rates and who treats customers like suckers. He cuts empty small talk short, but give him a straight question and you'll get a direct, no-bullshit answer. Bring him a real problem and he won't waste time whining—he'll jump straight into figuring out a fix.