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“I have to say.” Melone smiles at his newest speed dating partner. “Of all the people I expected to be participant forty-four-”
“Don’t remind me!” Mista groans into his hands. “I should have just left when that number was assigned to me, I’ve had nothing but bad luck here ever since.”
“Now, now, at least you already know me. I can’t be too bad, can I? I’m certainly no number thirty-one,” says Melone. “Have you run into him yet? Weighs about two hundred pounds, I’d say?”
“Is he the one who farts?” Mista asks, lifting his head a little.
“Yes, that’s the one. I see you’ve made his acquaintance already.” Melone pauses before asking, “By the way, Mista, I’m surprised to see you here at all. I thought for certain that Giorno…”
“It’s complicated,” says Mista. “Don’t you and Ghiaccio have a thing going on?”
Melone chuckles. “I don’t hate myself enough for that. He is fun to tease, but nothing exclusive. You’re a much better catch, objectively speaking.”
Mista doesn’t look particularly flattered.
“What? I didn’t ask you to father my children. Though if I do need to take out a female Virgo with an A blood type, may I call upon you?” asks Melone. “...No?”
“No.” Mista drops his head into his hands again. “This was a terrible idea, I’m never doing this again.”
Melone shrugs. “It’s just poor luck for you to get that number. A thirty-three would have been much better for you, or really any other number without a four.”
“Do you actually agree with me?” asks Mista. “Even Giorno and the others are just humoring me about it.”
“Mista, part of my attack strategy is based on zodiac signs and blood types. I’m a superstitious man by nature.” Melone reaches across the table to pat Mista’s shoulder. “While four has never personally given me any trouble, if you believe that it’s unlucky for you, I’m sure you have reason to think that way.”
Mista looks up at him. “So… how much time do we have left?”
“Four minutes.” Melone leans back. “Have you seen The Apartment? I don’t know how I put it off this long, I watch too many American films.”
“Of course I have, Monica Bellucci was amazing there, it completely deserved the awards-”
They talk about movies for four minutes. They could talk about them for much longer, but the rules of speed dating are what they are.
“Reluctantly,” says Melone at last, “I have to let you move on to your, probably much less fascinating and handsome, next partner.”
Mista snorts. “Do you use that line on everyone? It’s not attractive.”
“No, just people I think I can be honest with.” Melone smiles, halfway to a grin. “We’re almost done for the night, so even if your luck is terrible, you won’t have that number too much longer.”
“Thank God,” says Mista. “At least not everyone here is horrible.”
It doesn’t come as a surprise to either of them when they both share their contact information with each other at the end of the speed dating event.
Melone swoops in towards Mista after spotting him. “I could walk you home,” he says. “Not to sound like a stalker, but I already know where you live.”
“I think I’ll be fine on my own,” says Mista.
“Are you sure? You’re a talented mafia member who is incredibly dangerous with a gun. I might have to protect some muggers from you.” When Mista cracks a smile, Melone goes on, “Well, if you insist. Take care, Mista.” Melone then leans in and kisses him briefly on his cheek before heading on his way, humming to himself.
Mista stares after him. “...Yeah, this was a bad idea. I knew it the whole time.”