Frankie was packing his bags rapidly, his eyes darting out the adjacent window, wondering if an armed hitman would show up any second. He knew he angered the biggest godfather by sleeping with his daughter and he had to split. Frankie sighed as he moved out of his lavish bedroom and into the hallway. He passed many expensive paintings, that have been passed down to him by his grandparents. These paintings have been passed down for generations and that's how they landed in his his property. He reaches the spiral staircase, going down and seeing his girlfriend by the front door. Frankie smiles seeing her safe and walks over. Her name is Giorgia and she had long brunette hair, which was always perfectly combed and rarely ever not presentable. Frankie had mixed feelings seeing her, he was elated to see her alive but also the feelings of his affair wrecked him. He knew goomars were common, he had multiple over the years. She never knew, maybe she did but she overlooked it every time. Frankie thought she saw him driving away one night, but maybe it was a mere shadow, he couldn’t tell. But then the windows shatter as gunfire pierces them and Frankie quickly gets into cover, forced to drop his bags. Frankie takes out his revolver and looks over, seeing the corpse of Giorgia looking back at him. A single tear goes down his left eye as he begins firing back, not exactly sure where the bastards are. Frankie quickly gets back into cover as the attackers return fire. Frankie moves behind the couch, getting a closer look at the assailants. There seems to be three of them, all with submachine guns. Frankie knew he had little choice but to flee. Frankie shot a few more rounds, before escaping down the adjacent hallway and taking a left, ending in the kitchen. He then goes out the back door, quickly moving down the stone driveway and entering his four door black ford. Frankie quickly drives away, driving away from his home. Frankie can hear an explosion coming from behind, looking back and seeing his beautiful home destroyed. The millions he wasted on rubble. All the memories gone, all the days spent with his family, friends and Giorgia. He couldn't dwell on that now, he had survival to think about. 

Frankie ends up at the airport, quickly entering and pretending like everything was a casual Sunday vacation. Frankie purchased a one way ticket to the states, deciding to try out the sunshine and shores of California. Frankie waits in the lobby, watching people walk by and enter their own flights. This is the first time Frankie has ever left the old country and he was excited and terrified of the thought. He had connections, enough so he wouldn't be homeless for the time being. Before long, Frankie enters his own flight and sits in the window seat assigned to him. The thoughts entered his mind, what if he exited his flight to a hit squad waiting for him? Will these problems transfer to his new life as well? Frankie forced himself to be optimistic, as he continued to look out the plane's window.

Frankie looked down, seeing the Mediterranean Sea that turns into the Atlantic. He then looks forward. He sees this gorgeous blonde coming at him, and when she speaks, she has a thick Italian accent. She had great legs, it was apparent. Frankie smiled and asked for some water. As she handed the water bottle to him, Frankie grabbed his water, grazing across her fingers. Frankie laughed but looked out the window and enjoyed the rest of his flight. 

Looking down, he saw the unfamiliar lights of Los Angeles, California. He knew the reputation of this place it was heavenly, with how some people he knew spoke of it. Celebrities walking the sidewalks, the most prominent industries, and the entertainment industry were endless. The plane landed, and he got out slowly, walking down the stairs as he looked around. He had to shield his eyes from the sun. Frankie exited the airport, hailing a cab and getting in. Frankie saw the driver, a middle-aged man with a thick accent of possibly Eastern European origin. Frankie spoke with a slight smile.

“I need to go downtown, please.” 

The man nodded, looking, and then jammed out of there, catching Frankie off guard. Eventually, they entered downtown, and he got out of the cab. He saw a group of women pass, and he nodded slightly as he walked past them. He continued walking down the sidewalks, passing people from time to time. Frankie looked around, amazed, trying not to look like an oblivious tourist, but it was difficult. Eventually, he came up to the building he was looking for. It was made to appear like a legal business, but inside it was much more. Frankie entered and walked up to the receptionist who was a middle aged woman chewing obnoxiously loud on some bubblegum. Frankie smiled.

“I am here to see Dean, uh Winchester?” Frankie laughed, rubbing the back of his head. English was not his first language, and the woman laughed before responding.

“Yeah, honey, he is upstairs. Make sure you ain’t a stranger.” Frankie chuckled, nodded, and went up the adjacent stairs. This area was much different, with a lot of prostitutes and illegal substances being consumed. Frankie walked right by these people, he had no use for partying at the moment. Frankie then walked into the office where Dean was smoking a cigar and looking out the window. Dean was a middle aged male, with a stern serious look to him, but not harsh. Frankie walked over.

“Hey Dean, it’s Frankie Vizzini. I was told someone called you.”

Dean looked back, slightly startled but he smiled politely.

“Ah yeah, Franky. I heard about you. You wlll be perfect for this thing of ours.”

Frankie nodded.

“Ready to do what I must.”

Dean looked pleased to hear that, and he walked over, wrapping his arms around him.

“Perfect, that’s all I want. Now how about we get you a drink and some of those ladies out their Franky?”

Frankie smiled.

“It’s Frankie.”

Dean laughed.

“That’s what I said, anyway. Follow me, kid. What’s your drink of choice?”