Long Live. // Luke Hemmings 5SOS (Vampire)

Chapter 2 - The Vault

Rosemary prepared her new camera before she headed off to the vague spot on the map, placing it in an old canvas bag that she slung over her shoulder. After that unusual research session, she decided it was only right that she try to take the photos that she wished she'd seen in those results. After all, gig photography was her forte - and maybe pictures of this band that Steph had mentioned could be her next project.

She also changed out of her day clothes, into an oversized and distressed band tee that hid the shorts she wore underneath it like a secret. Ripped black fishnets wrapped around her legs and tall platforms hugged her calves. Once again, she layered on her necklaces, bracelets and her trusty leather jacket. Black eyeliner coated her eyes as per usual, along with a brown lipstick only a few shades darker than her own skin, and her long twists draped freely down her back.

Even though the place seemed sketchy, she wanted to look good; if anything, it just made her feel good. She knew that what she was doing was irresponsible - or, as her roommate would say, batshit insane - that's why she left that makeshift map on her bed and took a picture of it on her phone to follow. She also texted her roommate letting her know she'd be out... It might not prevent her from ending up in a ditch but it could help the police if she did. That was her thought process, at least.

She was glad that Steph had at least labelled some nearby streets on that drawing of hers, meaning that she could look for those on her phone and find her way rather than feeling around in the dark for a place she could barely even be sure existed. But when she got there, she knew - when she saw the tall, looming building on one of the backstreets, somehow darker than the rest aside from the neon sign hanging above the door... she knew.

The flickering neon red of the sign projected the letters 'TVC' into Rosemary's eyes... The Vault Club, she thought. Must be it. She could hear the slight pulsation of bass from inside the building, but the windows were too darkened to see anything through.
It was unusual, she noticed, to see a club with the door shut - no bouncer or line at this time as she'd typically expect. As she pulled her camera out and snapped a picture of the venue, she questioned to herself whether she was supposed to knock at the door, or simply walk in, or... none of the above.

Just as she put her camera away, the door swung open, the sound of music gently spilling out as it did. Rosemary stood firmly in her place, only lowering her camera as she looked up and saw a man stood there draped in a long, black trench coat with dark hair that fell just below his collarbone. Up on that doorstep, he towered over Rosemary in his own pair of platform boots, and stared down at her with sunken brown eyes. His slightly chapped lips curled into an ominous smirk, his eyebrow raising - instinctively, hers did the same, as if she was holding her own in a wordless challenge of wits.

"...You coming in?" He quipped, removing his hand that held the door and crossing his arms over his chest, leaning confidently against the doorframe with his head cocked slightly back.

"I was actually thinking of just standing out here and listening to Black Sabbath through the wall." Her sarcasm came naturally and bluntly; not a hint of amusement could be detected in her voice or on her face, forcing the young looking man to consider her statement for longer than he'd like to admit... is she serious? Of course she isn't.

He bit the inside of his cheek, giving her another once over before stepping aside and gesturing for her to come in. She did just that, adjusting her jacket by the collar as she strode past the man and allowed him to close the door behind her. She didn't expect her first steps inside the club to be towards a set of stairs, which she followed downwards into the the crowded basement area.

The walls on either side of the stairs were plastered with posters and flyers of different performers from all different years - so many that it made the space feel far more closed in than it was. There was a corner to turn before the crowded basement area was revealed to her.