The Blue Latern Club. An exclusive venue hidden away from the normal eye unless somebody told someone about it or invited by the owner. Samuel "Sam" Roland. A talented man, a good man with an eye for talent. The club was in the dimly lit area within Greenwich Village within the vastly populated and beloved New York City.

The club was as comfortable as ever. The lights dimmed, and the smell of expensive liqour seemed to stick to every inch of fabric. Both cigarette and cigar smoke curled dangerously through the air. Through the smoke, hushed discussions from different men and women filled the area. The bartenders are in the flow of serving drinks and being friendly.

The audience was larger than normal, Samuel noticed this from his usual spot beside the bar in his fancy suit. A lot of the people in attendance weren't their regulars and even looked far richer and exotic. Watching silently and being sure no trouble was caused, the bouncers were doing the same beside the door. They watched the tables in the front, often the more rowdy crews. The groups of people did seem suspicious, drinking and whispering to one another while watching the other patrons.

It was going to be a good evening with a lot of cash coming both Samuel and his performers' way, especially with his newest act.