The sun had just finished it's sluggish decent behind the New York skyline and the world renown city's nightlife was slowly waking from it's slumber. As the starry night sky appeared over the city glowing lights of countless stores and businesses sparked to life but one located on the upper west side of Manhattan was what seemed to catch the eye of everyone out that night. The sign was a deep neon red color and red in cursive letters Rumors. The sign was to a nightclub with a line to get in stretched down half of the block. In front of the door to club was a large, muscular man with a stern expression on his face and wore a black T-shirt with the word security printed on it along with a pair of dark shades that completely hid his eyes from view. Behind him and inside of the nightclub a crowd of people were spread throughout the building, some in corners or at tables talking, others at the bars competing to order drinks from the bartender. During all this on stage was a band performing Young Volcanoes and their lead was a dark haired man with multiple piercings and dressed in a black sleeveless shirt, black and slightly torn jeans, and a pair of black combat boots. To most people in the crowd he was just some performer, to a few he was Booker Manson the owner of the club, and to even less he was known as Boogie the once fabled monster that stalked every kid's nightmare. As the song came to a end Boogie shot a smile over the crowd before saying. "We're going to take five folks." He then headed off stage and over to the bar, going behind the counter and grabbing a bottle of set aside whiskey, that he made clear was for personal use, and poured himself a glass. He took a sip of his drink and let a sly smile come across his face as he looked across his business again.