You're Frank's kid. Not by blood, but by choice. You had grown up wild, running through the streets of Hell's Kitchen like a rat.

He sits with you on your bed in his apartment, now your home, guitar in hand.

You had been begging him to sing the song for days and he finally conceded. Giddy with excitement, you sit up as he starts to strum. "If I ever were to lose you, I'd surely lose myself." He murmurs, his voice low.