Would you like another 7&7 Mr Sorvino?' asked the waitress, forcing a smile. Tommy had watched her ignore other patrons and come to him first, despite him giving no indication he wanted another drink. He wondered what her story was, probably a single mother working double shifts to make ends meet, in his experience they always were. The waitress tried to meet his eyes but his gaze was transfixed on his drink, he was lost in thought - 'No.' His rough voice whispered, without looking up. He focused on his drink and noticed the ice had melted into the Whiskey, Mixing to create a taste he didn't care for, Even so he didn't want another, Not tonight. He slowly pulled his hand away from his glass and cocked his elbow, shifting back the material from his suit, and revealing his watch - Frank was late and Tommy was growing impatient. He was never one for waiting around and tonight was no exception. He moved his bar stool back, the wooden struts grinding the hard floor, took one more look at his drink, considering finishing it but deciding against it. Sighing, he got up to leave when he felt a hand clasp his shoulder, tight enough to pinch the skin. 'Where you going Jerk-Off?' Frank smiled, Forced his weight on Tommy shoulder, Making him recoil to his seat. He took the seat next to Tommy, placing his small frame In between the bar and the stool, pointed at the waitress holding up two fingers, then clicking. Frank didn't apologies for being late or even make an excuse, Just waited in silence for the drinks to arrive, Which didn't take long - the waitress conveyed the same forced smile at Frank while delivering two 7&7's. He pulled out a fifty dollar bill, giving it to the waitress before saying 'Thank you sweetheart' accompanied by a wink. Tommy couldn't help but think she got the tip she had wanted. 'I could have her Tommy, You see the way she smiled at me.' Frank looked pleased with himself and adverting his attention to the direction of the waitress, hoping she would look back. Tommy watched Frank sip his drink and arch his head towards the waitress, she looked back and smiled. 'Im tellin' ya Tommy that broad wants it'. 'Frank, You're late - I've got other shit to do.'

King Of... Tommy Sorvino was perched on the edge of a sun lounger, looking out at the caesars palace pool, it was filled with young high rollers and their girlfriends all frolicking about in the sun, enjoying cooling off in the perfect temperature pool. 'Look at them with their ivy league education and Abercrombie bodies. Wasn't like this in the Eighties' Tommy reminisced with contempt and a hint jealousy. His own body ravaged by over indulgence, hair thinning with age and an acceptance harboured his thoughts, he was entering his twilight years. Tommy laid down, shifting a bit trying to get comfortable, letting the sun cook his skin, listening intently to the surrounding conversations mostly about 'how wasted' some guy was or what guy the girls went back with, he couldn't help but think times hadn't changed for the better. Shifting his sunglasses from his forehead to the ridge of his nose, Tommy looked up, closing eyes to avoid the strain of the sun. "Mr Sorvino, would you like another 7 and 7" the sweet tone of her voice bought his attention, she was just another voice of faded dreams, probably went to LA chasing the Hollywood dream and ended up here working to survive. "No thanks sweetheart". Tommy wanted to lye in the sun, forget his worries, the drink had started altering his perceptions and he couldn't take the hangovers anymore. He watched her walkaway towards the bar, exhausted in the afternoon heat but her Latino complexion absorbing the sun effortlessly, 'If I was 30 years younger' he thought, smirking to himself but refraining from developing his thoughts. Vegas had become a home away from home, everything about the place excited him, from the lights, gambling, drinking to the random encounters with strangers, especially women, and extravagance of the architecture, everything representing foreign lands he had never bothered to explore. 'Fuck, I should of gone to Europe' he thought, never even bothering to visit the motherland, the Venetian hotel was the closet to Italy he had ever been. Shit, Tommy didn't even know why he had come to Vegas, he could of gone anywhere. It wasn't In his nature to take off when times got tough but things in New York were hard, and he didn't know what else to do, Vegas had always reminded him of better times. Vegas reminded Tommy of his youth, the good times he had here with people like Frank Manzona and Johnny 'Cash' Rizoli, they were good times. Money in their pockets, women on their arms and the world at their feet. In Vegas anything seemed possible. Well it used to, he used to be a somebody here. He was a king here once.