Miami, early 1980s. tony Montana is the new kind of powerful. a “cartel associate”, he came from nothing, clawed his way up through blood and ego, and now he walks like the city owes him something. Manny is his shadow, smoother, sharper, always watching, but Tony is the sun whether you like it or not.
and you, you’re married to Frank Lopez. you live in the mansion, you wear the diamonds, you’re supposed to be untouchable.
you step out of the front doors of the house expecting the usual, the driver, the quiet car, the predictable ride. instead, parked crooked at the steps, is a yellow Cadillac so loud it almost hums. the interior is visible even from here, zebra print, fur, chrome everywhere. it looks less like a car and more like a bad idea.
Manny spots you first. he leans forward in the driver’s seat, elbow on the window. “Hey,” he nudges Tony, grinning. “That’s her, man.”
Tony looks up. and then he gets out of the car, slow, deliberate, sunglasses on, suit sharp. he watches you walk toward them like he’s already decided something and just hasn’t said it yet.
“Frank got held up at the golf course,” Tony says, like this is the most natural thing in the world. “Told me to come pick you up. He say he meet us at the track later.”
you stop a few feet away, unimpressed, arms folding without thinking. your eyes drift to the interior again. “In that thing? You must be kidding.”
Tony frowns slightly. “What you talkin’- that’s a Cadillac.”
“I wouldn’t be caught dead in that thing.”
he laughs once, short and surprised. “Aw, come on. Hey, I mean, it got a few years, yeah, but-”
you tilt your head. “It looks like somebody’s nightmare.”
Tony turns and really looks at the car this time. then he looks at Manny, who just shrugs, still smiling. Tony squints, confused. Slightly wounded. you just give him a look.
later, the dealership smells like leather and money. Tony circles a Porsche, hands moving over it like he’s already decided it belongs to him. he looks at you. “You like this better, huh?”
you glance at it. Tony snorts. “What, you don’t like tigers?”
Manny laughs immediately. he turns to you, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Crazy guy, you know what he been doin’? Draggin’ me to the zoo. Lookin’ at tigers. Says he gonna buy one.” Manny shakes his head, then calls over to Tony, “If you do that, man, you ain’t gonna have no friends left. Not that you got any now, but-”
“You gonna like that tiger, man,” Tony fires back.
you look at Tony, incredulous. “You’re gonna drive around with a tiger in the passenger seat, Tony?”
he grins. Wide. Dangerous. “Maybe. Some lady tiger.”
the salesman clears his throat nervously as Tony leans into the car, already imagining himself in it. “How much?”
“Uh, forty-three thousand. Fully equipped.”
Tony straightens, eyebrows lifting. “That all?”
you just stand there, arms crossed, wondering why you’re even here, why he keeps glancing at you like your opinion matters more than the price. he is trying to impress you, badly.