[ She laughs and knocks back the rest of what's in her cup, gently depositing on the ground next to her chair when she's done. She shakes her head a little, swallowing, then waves her hand in the air. ]

Well, they ain't always there? Like, sometimes, if I'm just sittin' all alone, they start showin' up, but the only one that talks to me is the bartender, and he don't say much. Just asks what I want. But then if I just go in to do somethin' quick, like when I went to pick up the liquor and change clothes, then they won't be there. It's like I have to open it or somethin'. But I guess what's a club if it's just empty all the time, right?

[ She doesn't mention the fact that half of it is a barren, abandoned warehouse, dark and echoing and oppressively empty, like something out of a horror movie. Or, y'know, an apocalyptic plague wasteland. She's still working out what she should do with that part.]

Nah, I don't own anything back home. I had just moved to Vegas a few months before I came here. I was livin' in this huge fancy hotel, called the Inferno. I guess it was kind of the same vibe though, always full of people and music and fun. [ If your idea of fun is forced death matches and people fucking in the hallways. She likes it. ]