YVTT

Part 1: Chapter 1 (Slight Nsfw)

Arty woke up to the sound of a high pitched ringing in his right ear, he slammed his hand on the table beside him, he stood up and picked up his phone, putting it next to his ear.

"Yo, Arty. Who's this" He adjusted the crotch of his pants. It was tight. Like the chick he was sleeping with last night.

"Arty, it's Betty, is Abel with you?"

He took the time to think for once in his life, and he walked into the living room and found his brother asleep on the couch with half of his body hanging off the edge of it, snoring loud as hell.

"Uhh yea." He let out a loud and disruptive burp nearly deafening Betty over the phone.

"That was raunchy as hell, don't do that shit again."

"Aye I captain. Why did you ask for Abel anyways?"

"Who knows with the both of you, ESPECIALLY, you. You worry me."

"Gee, thanks."

"I'm being serious Arty, sex, drugs, drinking, and partying isn't doing you any good, you're gonna wind up a reck."

"Well it's working just fine now, and it has been for the past couple months."

"Whatever Arty, just remember the both of you got an interview today, and we have some more info on the case of you know who."

"Kk."

"Bye."

"Bye."

He hung up the phone and flopped backwards onto his bed, nearly hitting his head on the edge, like a dumbass.
He let out a loud, extensive, and over dramatic sigh as thought about what he was going to wear.

He walked to his closet and slid it open, staring at the clothes he had. He picked up a white suit and tie threw it onto his bed. He stripped out of his pajama bottoms because that's the only thing he wears to bed. Not even boxers or socks. Just pants. Like a menace. He walked to his dresses and pulled out a pair of boxers, putting them on, because that's what sane people do when they go in public.

He slipped into his suit and walked into his bathroom, fixing his hair and his pencil thin mustache that went out of style in like the 90s. He then picked up a pair of sun glasses on the counter of his sink. They were square, dark orange tinted, and black framed.

Arty walked out of his room and put on his shoes. They were white, leather, Chelsea boots with a heel. He then walked into the living room to shake the life back into his loud ass brother.

Abel looked at Arty, confused.

"Blood what the hell are you doing? What time is it man?"

"It's 11:49 we have in interview in like 30 minutes."

"Oh shit for real? Damn, I gotta get ready."

"Oh shit really? If only I would've thought about that."

Abel gave Arty a sinister look as he picked up his keys and walked to the door.

"What are you doing?"

"Going to my penthouse, so I can get ready. You just told me to. No?"

"Aren't you a little to hungover for that?"

"We was doing the same shit last night man. I'm alright."

"If you die or kill somebody, that's not gonna be on me."

"All righty"

Abel walked out of Artys penthouse and closed the door behind him, because even when he's hungover, he has basic human decency.