It had been months since Mafia Misfortune had taken the stage, at least a decent stage. A booking agent had called Gian a week before, practically begging him to have his band come in and play a full set. Gian had thought long and hard about this, many questions crossed his mind: Can I do this? Is my mind clear? Will it be a flop? He wasn't sure, but he took the bait anyways. His bandmates were ecstatic, they had been dying to play for months now. Gian pulled in a favor with Gunslingers Parade, to be their opening act; these guys were way talented, and had been in the music business a decade longer than Gian's group, which made for them to be a great opener.
Just before the show, Gian popped a Zoloft, as per Sienna's request (aka: demand). Sienna knew him best, and she knew he sung better with a clear head. He stood at the bar, with Tina and Sienna, chugging down beers. He was nervous, he always got nervous.
"Thanks guys. You guys and gals fuckin' rock! But now it's time to put your hands together for the sickest upcoming band in Manhattan: Mafia Misfortune!"
Gian took a deep breath, and stepped on stage.
[OOC: OOOOOOPPPPENNNN, like Tina's legs. But really, if you would've found out about this somehow (Via: SWS, or his Twitter), then join in! Have fun, get drunk...Good tiemz. P.S. Keep replies short 'n' sweet if you can :D ]