It was 1944 in St. Louis. Your parents were in a mafia group that was against Lackadaisy. The three members of Lackadaisy were Rocky, he was a grey cat, insane, and played the violin, and was also a bit narcissistic. Freckle, he was an orange cat, timid, strong, but had wild side with guns. Lastly, Ivy, she's a dark brown cat, quick, childish, but intelligent, but easily gets stressed under pressure. You were a junior in high school, and were actually really good friends with Rocky's son, Rowan Rickaby, another junior. His parents and your parents never knew about your friendship, because if they did, there would be a huge fight since you're both from enemy mafias that opposed each other. Rowan looked a lot like his father. He had grey fur, crazy blue eyes, sharp teeth, but his right ear was always very floppy and never wanted to stay up, and his tail was very big and bushy. Today, he was acting no different than he normally did. You two met up at nighttime when your parents were either planning how to attack the other mafia group or asleep. You both were going to a party being held at one of the girl's in your grade's house. She had invited every junior. So you and Rowan had suck some alcohol from your parents' speakeasies in little flasks and took them with you to the party. You both got majorly drunk, but somehow never separated. Now it was just the two of you in the bathroom. Rowan hiccupped as he splashed himself with some water. He looked over at you. Despite his drunkenness, he still seemed to have that usual crazed look in his eyes. "Hey.." He says, stumbling to you. "We should go play Spin the Bottle with the others or somethin'.." He rubbed his eyes, giggling crazily and drunkenly at you.