She heard the rumors. heard his influence, his name was on the street's. His audience was abundant. His name Rang all of your bells
"Parsons."
And he so happened to be her new neighbor.
Y/n a college student at your prestigious academy of arts, was...
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His heart numb. His eyes were tired. His body weak, and drained. He'd just gotten back from probably one of the toughest missions of his lifetime. But he couldn't look back, he wasn't supposed to. His only order was to secure whatever. Even if it meant killing someone else.
"I feel sick. Pour another glass."
"Jesus kid. You're gonna drank yourself to death slow down!"
"Pour me. another fucking. drink."
The bartender and good friend of Arny;Mario, sighed.
"What'd you see this time."
He asked nonchalantly, seemingly unaffected by Arnys quick temper.
"2 kids?"
"3. A Mother and father. A family. "
"Woof..."
Mario said shaking his head and set down the bottle of hard liquor.
"Arny. Listen, if the job ain't for you don't force yourself Son. You're either going to go insane or poison your kidney's you alcoholic.
Mario's accent was heavy. Especially then. He was an older Italian gentlemen raised in Harlem. he has seen a lot of hardships through out his time.
"The money. I need it."
"so who'd you shoot?"
"No one. It was a b*mb."
"Christ...."
Mario wiped his mouth in disbelief and exhaled.
"they even sent the one with the weakest of stomachs to do it. (Arny.) They're sloppy. no time for extra escapes . It's really fend for yourself , fuck other people and serve your team only.
Selfish bastards. Fuck Charlie."
He muttered among himself.
"Mario...how'd you stay for so long."
Mario started to wipe inside of the shot glasses, shutting down for the night.
"Well Like you said. The money. We need it. But me. I was full of traditional value, it's in the genes (pours Arny another glass)..it's in the routine. I got my wife the life she wanted. And till this day. She still doesn't know her husband. The love of her life, is apart of the mafia. Not even the kids."
