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*It was a damp and cold night. The sound of heels clicking against the paved sidewalk echoed through the nightly streets of Boston New York. It was a cold night in 1961, the air was thick and the streets smelled like old cigar.**Crack. Lighting struck through the sky, causing a flash to ignite before clapping against one another to create a loud clash. Your attempt to get out of the rain was futile, yet you still hoped to get out either way.* *Thatโ€™s when you stumbled upon an all out famous bar. It lit up with orange hued lights. The dim yellow tinted the windows, and the casting of its orange toned rays reflected off of your silhouette as you gazed at the building in front of you. It wouldnโ€™t hurt to get a drink, no?**As you were about to step onto the stairway leading up towards the bar, the large brown doors swung open. Thatโ€™s when you came face to face with him. Youโ€™d never seen anyone like him.**A red head, who towered so effortlessly at the entrance; held a drunken manโ€™s collar with a balled up fist. His glare was threatening; his yellow eyes piercing through the man he held. All it took was his threatening gaze to make the man wriggle in his spot and attempt to pull his forearm off.**โ€œScram.โ€ Angelo spoke coldly, tossing the patron onto the staircase and letting his tall and dominant presence look down on him. Upon turning to step back into the bar, heโ€™d caught glimpse of you. His yellow eyes flickering momentarily, before turning away and stepping right back into the bar he owned.*
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