07-30-2018, 07:51 PM
JERSEYBOY
// shit this is late [member=598]imperia[/member]
ref bbyyyy
Lights, music, and chatter filled the open space as the sun slowly began to make its way downward onto the horizon. It was a clear, cloudless night, and quite perfect for a party. This wasn't a "rager" full of teenagers, it wasn't a cheaply-thrown together party at your parents house, it was a social. It was chock-full of adults with money coming out of their ears and bullshit spewing thick from their mouths. People put on pretty facades, as if it were a competition to see who could be the most oozing with charisma and glamour. Women wore flashy little dresses, high heels, and pearl necklaces while the men wore their finest blazers, suits, and dress-shoes. It was practically a "Gatsby party", though the Gatsby of this party was just some other wealthy entrepreneur who liked to show off his things and his money. He made no effort to hide his appearance, as he stood in the middle of a circle and guffawed at whatever jokes they were telling.
There were dozens of people invited. There had to be around a hundred here, maybe more. From millionaires to business-owners to CEOs, all intermingled with one another and discussed their work and their successes. Accompanying one of the said "business-owners" was a man named Thomas DeVito. He, uh, did some work for the man, as did the other men in his party tonight. There were a handful of them, all donning obsidian tuxedos and matching bow ties. Their hair was slicked back with gel, they reeked of cologne, and their grins were are sharp as knives. A lot of the people here knew what they were about, and they practically spelled "T-R-O-U-B-L-E", but everyone knew to keep their business hush-hush. They knew better than to expose the mob, because if they did? They'd never be heard of again. So, everyone just went with it, treating the gentlemen with the same respect as everybody else in the room.
Tommy was currently holding a glass of bourbon, although its contents had significantly lowered since he had first been poured a drink. He figured that, since the current conversation topic was growing dull anyways, he'd might as well get a refll. So, the Italian quietly excused himself and began to stroll on over to the bar, taking the final sip of the liquid and emptying the glass completely.
ref bbyyyy
Lights, music, and chatter filled the open space as the sun slowly began to make its way downward onto the horizon. It was a clear, cloudless night, and quite perfect for a party. This wasn't a "rager" full of teenagers, it wasn't a cheaply-thrown together party at your parents house, it was a social. It was chock-full of adults with money coming out of their ears and bullshit spewing thick from their mouths. People put on pretty facades, as if it were a competition to see who could be the most oozing with charisma and glamour. Women wore flashy little dresses, high heels, and pearl necklaces while the men wore their finest blazers, suits, and dress-shoes. It was practically a "Gatsby party", though the Gatsby of this party was just some other wealthy entrepreneur who liked to show off his things and his money. He made no effort to hide his appearance, as he stood in the middle of a circle and guffawed at whatever jokes they were telling.
There were dozens of people invited. There had to be around a hundred here, maybe more. From millionaires to business-owners to CEOs, all intermingled with one another and discussed their work and their successes. Accompanying one of the said "business-owners" was a man named Thomas DeVito. He, uh, did some work for the man, as did the other men in his party tonight. There were a handful of them, all donning obsidian tuxedos and matching bow ties. Their hair was slicked back with gel, they reeked of cologne, and their grins were are sharp as knives. A lot of the people here knew what they were about, and they practically spelled "T-R-O-U-B-L-E", but everyone knew to keep their business hush-hush. They knew better than to expose the mob, because if they did? They'd never be heard of again. So, everyone just went with it, treating the gentlemen with the same respect as everybody else in the room.
Tommy was currently holding a glass of bourbon, although its contents had significantly lowered since he had first been poured a drink. He figured that, since the current conversation topic was growing dull anyways, he'd might as well get a refll. So, the Italian quietly excused himself and began to stroll on over to the bar, taking the final sip of the liquid and emptying the glass completely.
© MADI
[align=center]![[Image: dD7EQc3.png]](https://i.imgur.com/dD7EQc3.png)