📋 Christopher Moltisanti steps into the pizza place without making a show of it. the bell over the door dinging and a few heads lifting instinctively. a couple guys near the window exchange a look, finish their slices fast, and slide out like they suddenly remembered somewhere else to be.

Chris sees and pretends he doesn’t enjoy it. he goes straight to the counter, leaning in toward the old owner like they’re old friends, which they are, technically. “How you doin’, huh?” Chris says. “Everything good?” the old guy nods. “Yeah, yeah. Business is business.” Chris smiles, easy. “Good. Lemme know if anyone gives you trouble.” it sounds casual, it isn’t.

then he spots you, same booth, same group of girls, same effortless confidence like you’re not sitting ten feet away from a guy who just made two grown men abandon their food. he exhales through his nose, straightens his jacket, and walks over like he’s already decided how this is going to go. “Hey,” he says. “You got a minute?” you look up. “Sure.”

that’s enough encouragement for him. he doesn’t sit. he stays standing, hands in his pockets, leaning just slightly closer so your friends can hear, not enough to be rude, just enough to be intentional.

“So listen,” he says, casually. “I was thinkin’. You and me. Dinner. This week.” you blink once, processing it, then you smile “No.” the word lands clean. chris freezes confused. “…No?” he repeats. “Yeah,” you say. “But thanks for asking.”

your friends go dead silent. he studies your face, clearly waiting for something else, a qualifier, a maybe later, a convince me. when it doesn’t come, he clears his throat.

“Alright,” he says, nodding like he’s fine. “Cool.” he sits down anyway, immediately pivots. “So,” he says loudly, turning to your friends, “you girls know I’m a made guy, right?” one of your friends glances at you, then back at him. “Uh… yeah?”

“I mean,” Chris continues, warming up now, “not everybody gets to say that. took a lotta work. a lotta trust.” he leans back, spreading his arms across the booth like he’s holding court. “People respect that.”

another friend nods politely. “That’s… impressive.” Chris lights up. “Thank you.” he shoots you a look. you’re unimpressed but not rude, just watching him like this is a familiar routine.

“I take care of people,” he adds. “If someone’s with me, they’re set. no worries. no problems.” your friend tilts her head. “Like… ever?” “Ever,” he says confidently, and keeps going. “I’m sayin’, if she went out with me,” he gestures vaguely at you, “it’s not like I’m some bum.” you sit there and roll your eyes, they’re practically campaigning now and waiting for you to accept.