Except that wasn't totally true. There was one person, which was why the doors were unlocked. It was Agatha Pierce, the owner of the club. But she was out of sorts. Ever since she came back here from that uptight religious woman's house, things seemed to get strange for her. Her apartment above the club was normally her sanctuary, but now it seemed more and more unfamiliar to her, and kind of creepy. What was happening?
"I'm hungry myself," Jay said, before heading into the small kitchen behind the bar, opening the refrigerator and taking out some items like he owned the place.
Agatha heard someone in the kitchen downstairs and headed down the stairs to see who it was. A woman in her twenties with a tight black T-shirt, a leather miniskirt, ripped fishnet stockings, and military-style boots was standing there. "Who the fuck are you?" She asked, grabbing her arm.
Another person came around the corner, also wearing dark clothes, with long hair, dark with streaks of pink. "You trying to steal something?" Simon asked. "If so, you picked the wrong place."
Jay put down the food he was scrounging up and hurried to see what the his friends were screaming about. "Grave...let go of her," he said, with some authority.
"What? I caught her stealing."
"You can frisk her if you want, but let's try something novel and actually ask her what she's up to," Jay said, continuing to cement himself as a leader. "This is exactly what you hate so much when the police do it to you...jump to conclusions. Now..." Jay looked at Agatha. "Care to enlighten us?"
