I love being a judge on Nobody's Got Talent But Me. [Arthur + Alfred] [complete]

“H-Huh? I’m not a replacement! I was j-just supposed to learn from you, since they said you were really t-talented and stuff…” Alfred started to stutter, a bad habit whenever he was nervous. Like right now, with a drunk British man being angry with him. He looked around helplessly, trying to find someone to take Arthur away from him but no one stepped up to help him. Great. He didn’t think he could slip away either…

“Do… do you really think I’m skinny?”

"Replacement?" Arthur scoffed, "You really are oblivious, aren't you?" Arthur wobbled again, leaning on a nearby chair for balance. He wondered if he should just go home, after all, the floor seemed oddly unstable. Must be one of those California earthquakes, Arthur decided. He denied the fact that perhaps he may have had a bit too much alcohol.

"Of course you're skinny, lad! Haven't you seen yourself lately? Skinny American git," Arthur declared, poking at Alfred.

“I’m not oblivious! I’m really not your replacement!” After all, he was hardly good enough to replace anyone, let alone someone like Arthur Kirkland. He watched as the other model wobbled a bit, wondering how someone could like alcohol so much… It wasn’t that great!

“H-Hey! Don’t do that!” Alfred backed away and wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep Arthur from poking him again.

Arthur snorted, obviously not believing what Alfred said. "Why wouldn't you be? You're young, American, cheerful, and is not as much of a hassle as I am. Plus you have quite a nice arse," a tipsy Arthur stated. Of course, alcohol disabled that little thing in Arthur's head that told him what to keep inside his head.

"Why not? Skinny git," Arthur tried to poke Alfred again.

“Because I’m just a kid who got discovered by random chance! And... H-hey! Don’t look at my ass!” Blushing, Alfred moved his hands behind him, covering his rear. Really! Who said stuff like that to someone they had just met?!

“Stop that! You’re drunk!”

Arthur snorted when the other told him he was drunk. "M'not drunk. I don't get drunk after having a few things to drink," he grumbled. It annoyed him whenever someone tried to get on his case about his problem with alcohol. Arthur thought he was fine and everyone just wanted to annoy him. After all, it was Arthur's body and wouldn't he know what was bad for it? Apparently not.

"I'm going home. See you around, rookie," Arthur mumbled, wobbling once more. He then stepped around Alfred and began to exit the bar.

Well, with the way Arthur was wobbling all over the place, he had to be drunk. People didn’t just stumble around like that. And a few drinks? Alfred wondered what a few was to Arthur… He watched Arthur attempt to stumble out of the bar. It was a rather pathetic sight, to be completely honest.

“Do you want me to call a cab for you?” While LA wasn’t packed with taxis like New York was, he knew that one quick phone call would get a cab to come here.

"I don't need a bloody cab! Stupid bloody Americans. Think I can't get myself home without killing myself," Arthur growled, glaring at Alfred before quickly leaving the bar. By saying that he meant, 'Yes, I am not sober in the least. Why don't you call a cab so nothing terrible happens to me?' However, Arthur was much too proud to ever ask for help like that, so, instead he turned to insults and blatantly disregarding his own safety. It was quite honestly a miracle that he had survived for so long.

Unfortunately by this time, Arthur was out on the sidewalk, heading towards his car, and certain doom.

“But you’re not supposed to drink and drive!” By this time, Arthur was already walking away from him. Groaning, Alfred went after him, not wanting this crazy man to endanger himself and other people. He grabbed Arthur’s arm, already on the phone to call a cab. As rude as Arthur was, he didn’t deserve to die or kill someone and ruin his career.

“The cab’ll be here in a few minutes. Do I need to wait with you so you don’t do something stupid?”

Arthur was jerked away from his car when Alfred grabbed his arm. Arthur glanced around, trying to make sense of what exactly had happened. He frowned and glared at the hand around his arm. "Bugger off, I told you I can get m'self home just fine," he growled, seeming very annoyed. By this he meant, 'Thank you very much for helping me out here. You should probably hang around a bit longer just in case I try to do something stupid again.'

"Stupid bloody gits need to stop worrying about me," Arthur grumbled to himself. He made no move to escape from Alfred's grip, waiting for the cab with the other man. He stared blankly at the street, trying to will himself home so he could lay down and get some sleep.

Alfred just frowned at Arthur, still holding onto his arm so the older model wouldn’t stumble into the street or something. Today really wasn’t going the way he had planned… Who knew he would end up babysitting the model he was supposed to be learning from? Sighing, he glanced around for the cab, hoping that it would hurry up so he could get home soon.

“I never said I was worried about you… most drunk drivers kill other people and not themselves.” Huffing, he looked away from Arthur, a small frown on his face.

Arthur's scowl grew even worse when Alfred replied. "Course. How could I forget? All you people, th' only reason you guys put up with me is for the money," Arthur said, still staring at the street. For once, what he said was actually quite accurate. Due to his unpleasant personality, Arthur had nobody who he could actually call a friend. Most of the time, Arthur thought it was safer that way, but sometimes, the model couldn't help but feel lonely. He'd never ever say any of this out loud, even if he wasn't sober.

"It's a shame you can't buy happiness," Arthur mused, wanting the cab to hurry up.

"Why are you asking me? I have no control over what you do or think. Honestly, you should have just left me alone to do what I want, and gone on with your life. it's what anyone with sense does," Arthur replied acidly. His eyes had never stopped staring at the street, since Arthur continued to try to will himself home. Unfortunately he was having little success in that aspect, since he hadn't been able to take a step towards home for a few minutes.

"Did you even give the cab the right address?

Alfred flinched a little bit and let go of Arthur’s arm, still looking down at his feet to hide the hurt in his face. He knew the modeling business was hard but never before had someone been so cruel to him before. “I…”

Luckily, he was spared from saying anything else when the cab finally arrived. “Looks like you can go home now…” With that, he turned away, still depressed by how much Arthur hated him.

"Thank you for your assistance. Now if you'll excuse me, I must stop dithering around here and actually get some sleep," Arthur brushed off his arm where Alfred had grabbed him. He then stepped into the cab. He figured that Alfred hated him, it was a normal reaction for people to hate Arthur. After telling the cab driver his address, the cab drove off and took Arthur home.

"Alfred F. Jones, hmm...."

Once Arthur arrived, he collapsed on his bed and proceeded to sleep off his insobriety. It was extremely probable that Arthur was going to wake up with a massive hangover tomorrow. At least he was at home, and had some time to recover. Though hangovers were a very common occurrence with Arthur.

“You do that.” Alfred looked up and frowned at Arthur before walking off, pulling out his phone to text Matthew again. As soon as he got home, he would be complaining so much! Hopefully the stupid photographers wouldn’t try to make him and Arthur have a photoshoot together again. That would be terrible.

He finally made it to the small apartment that he shared with Matthew and flopped onto his bed, not bothering the take off his shoes or anything.

“Uuugh…”