No really, blame it on the alcohol

[topangainglee]

It had been a house party she'd been randomly invited to, Tina remembered. There had been a really cute guy in the kitchen, and he'd told her he was an underwear model, and she'd been a little bit drunk already so she traded him her shirt for a bottle of vodka. Tina was a fan of layers, thankfully, and still had an undershirt on, but still.
And then

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[dancnwithmyself]

Artie had been bemused when he'd received the somewhat drunken texts from Tina. How she'd gotten to a party where someone claimed they were an underwear model in the first place, he'd probably never know.

Still, he'd gotten the details from her, and went along, hoping that she was alright, and hadn't done anything stupid. It didn't take him long to find the house - the music kind of gave it away. He slowed down as he came close, looking carefully at the house for any signs of, well, anything unusual.

[topangainglee]

Tina noticed him, and started waving from her window, still sober enough to realize that A) screaming was horrible for her voice and B) he wouldn't be able to hear her anyway. She thanked whoever had arranged for the music to be so loud in her mind, otherwise he would probably never find her and then who would she have to drink with? It would have been a tragedy.

[dancnwithmyself]

Artie was still looking up at the house when he spotted the figure waving at him. Thankfully she was still clothed. Good, she had been wearing layers. He waved back at her, then sent her a fast text.

Come down and let me in?

He really didn't want to ring the doorbell and hope for an answer.

[topangainglee]

Tina stopped waving once she got the text and ducked back inside to open the door. She figured an open door was better than a reply, at this point.
"Hi Artie!"