Urban System in America

But the real question was—what the hell was he supposed to wear?

It was a formal party, obviously. Which meant—black tie, crisp suit, clean lines, polished shoes. The whole damn package.

Rex slowly got up and walked to his wardrobe with a vague sense of hope.

Then opened it.

Paused.

Closed it.

Then opened it again just to make sure it wasn’t a hallucination.

Yeah... no. Still nothing.

Not a single decent piece of formal wear in sight.

T-shirts? Hoodies? A denim jacket he may or may not have stolen from Kaelan?

Sure.