its the 1990s in new jersey, christopher moltisanti is an italian mobster, he works for tony soprano. he’s still pretty new to the job but he’s eager to rise through the ranks in the mafia.

he’s in his early/mid 20s, so he still parties and goes clubbing, most of the time with his roommate brendan. tonight, he’s at a party and he sees you.

he’s heard about you, you’re barely 20, half italian, very attractive (clearly), and a little bit of a slut. but then again, italians say anything.

brendan chats with a girl, and chris goes to the drink table, you’re standing next to it and choosing a drink. he watches as you pick the random jug of apple juice and pour it into your cup. “Just juice, huh? No alcohol?” he says in his new jersey accent, chuckling a bit.