Mezzanine

| 44 |

"This is the address, right?" Carter asked.

The three of us stood in front of a black door on a windowless building. "Apartment 606" was written above it in small gold letters. A set of doorbells with room numbers and last names was next to it, but the weather and time had worn the writing away to the point it was illegible. Other than that, there was no sign this place had been occupied anytime within the past decade.

"That's what it said online," Lola said. "606 Second Avenue."

"I thought you said this place was a bar." Carter crossed his arms over his chest. "It just looks like an apartment."

"I was just guessing it might be," Lola said. "I don't know for sure."

"What if it's a speakeasy or something?" I suggested.

"This isn't the twenties," Carter replied.

"Technically, it is the twenties," Lola said.

I couldn't help but chuckle. Lola flashed me a small smile, her face turning slightly red.

"Haha. Good one." Carter rolled his eyes. "Either way, this place doesn't look open."

Lola took out her phone and glanced at it. "It's only three in the afternoon. It probably doesn't open until late."

"Search for it again," Carter said. "There has to be something online about it with opening times or something."

"Give me a second," Lola said. "I have a message from my dad. I need to text him back. Why don't you check?"

Carter groaned and took out his own phone. "Mine's almost dead."

As Carter and Lola bickered like an old married couple, I paced along the outside of the building. It was weird there weren't any signs for Black Rose on the front...like they didn't want people finding out what it was or how to get in. Maybe it was just a well hidden speakeasy, but something seemed off. Surely there would be at least some sign of how to get in.

What kind of place was this?

The thick black paint on the walls chipped off the original red brickwork, and some half-painted over graffiti lined the sides. I reached the corner of the building, where an alley separated it from an adjacent building that looked like an old restaurant or bar.

Old grocery bags, plastic cups, and other unidentifiable rubbish littered the narrow, cobblestone street. A chill rushed through me. Something about this entire street felt wrong. It was the middle of the day in the off season, sure, but why was there no one else here?

Before I knew what I was doing, my feet led me down the alley. I stopped at the halfway point, the shade from the building casting the entire space in an eerie shadow. Then I saw it—a metal door painted completely black. Written on it in small red letters in the same calligraphy style as the application were the words "Black Rose."

"Jay?" Carter's voice called in the distance.

"Where are you?" Lola yelled. "Jay?"

I turned back just in time to see them standing at the edge of the alley.

"Why'd you run off?" Carter asked as the two of them approached, meeting me in front of the side door entrance.

"I was just looking around." I gestured to the words on the door and flashed them a smirk. "I think I found the way in."

"How do they expect anyone to find this door?" Carter asked.

"I kind of think that's the point," I replied.

"Yeah, it definitely doesn't seem like a place that advertises itself," Lola said, her eyes glued to her phone. "It's more difficult to find information on it than you'd think."

I tried to glance at her screen, but she held it close to her face, keeping it just out of eyeshot.

"Okay, I think I found something," she finally said. "There's a blog post about the place. It says it's a nightclub and music venue. Apparently there's a band playing here tonight at eight. It has a link to where you can buy tickets."

"Perfect," Carter said. "Let's just get tickets and we'll come back tonight and look for Damien. Even if he isn't here, we can probably ask someone that works here if they've seen him before—"

"Shit," Lola cut off his rambling.

"What?" I asked.

"It's sold out."

"Well, maybe we can figure out a way in anyway," Carter said. "The two of you can read minds, after all." Surely you can figure out some way to trick your way in.

"Yeah," I said. "Maybe..."

"We have to at least give it a try," Carter said.

"Okay," I said. He was right. Even if we couldn't get in, we might see Damien outside. We could ask people questions about him, and even if they didn't answer, their thoughts might give something away. "You're right. This is our best shot."

"There's just one more problem," Lola said.

"What now?" Carter asked.

"I have to go shopping."

"Shopping?" I raised an eyebrow.

"We don't have time to go to the mall, Lola," Carter said. "We've kind of got more important things to deal with right now."

"This is important! I can't go to a club in...this." She gestured to her ripped jeans and the cropped maroon sweatshirt that revealed a small strip of skin at her middrift.

"You look good in that," I said, but it was a lie. I didn't think she looked good. I thought she looked hot as hell.

But what did I know about fashion? Maybe this place had a dress code or something.

Lola shook her head. "If we are going to try to get in, we at least have to look the part. Plus, we have four hours to kill before the place even opens."

She turned to Carter, looking him up and down and assessing his attire. She pulled at the slightly damp fabric of his grunge-blue hoodie. "This won't work at all." She shook her head. "You're going to need a new outfit too."

Carter rolled his eyes. "Seriously?" I hate shopping.

"Too bad," she said.

"What about me?" I asked.

She chuckled, barely even glancing at what I was wearing. "Oh don't worry. From what I've read on this blog...I think you'll blend right in."