“You’re either on the guest list or in the way. Curly don’t like surprises—unless she’s dancing.”
Description - Exterior
Just off a busy stretch near Midway, The VIP Room squats behind a flickering pink neon sign and mirrored windows smeared with fingerprints and promise. Tinted glass hides the clientele, and a velvet rope held by a sleepy bouncer sends a clear message: if you don’t belong, you don’t ask. The parking lot stays full of Cadillacs and rusted Chevys alike—loyalty comes in all makes.
Description - Interior
The main floor is a haze of perfume, smoke, and thumping bass. Leather booths line the walls, dim red bulbs swing overhead, and the stage is lit like a low-budget miracle. The private rooms off the main floor are plush enough to feel expensive and dark enough to hide anything. Girls work with practiced ease, and the bartenders never spill what they hear.
Upstairs, Curly’s office is half HQ, half clubhouse: a scarred desk, a well-guarded safe, a battered pool table, and a poker setup always ready for the next hand. It smells like whiskey, cologne, and power. If you’re in here, you matter—or you’re about to.
Downstairs, behind a locked steel door, lies the real heart of the operation. One side opens into a private event room—sometimes used for high-stakes games, sometimes Veil-sealed gatherings, always expensive. The other side? A line of small private rooms, candle-lit and soundproofed, where the girls do what the house pays them to do—and sometimes more, for the right price.
History
Built in ’46, just after the war, The VIP Room was Curly’s vision from the start: a place where influence, vice, and charm could mingle without anyone getting their hands too dirty. Over the decades it’s become ICB’s southside crown jewel—a one-stop shop for deals, dirt, and debauchery.
Owned By
Curly, street chief of the Insane Cobra Boys (
Insane Cornell Boys), with silent partnership support from Outfit-linked vice interests.
Run By
Curly – ICB boss, master of smiles and threats. The VIP Room is his castle.
Brianna “Bree” LaRoux – Club manager, ex-dancer, Veil-touched, watches everything.
Darnell “Stacks” Monroe – Pit boss and head of casino operations, keeps the dice honest when it counts.
Marty “Buttons” Vega – Bartender and house fixer; always wiping the same glass, always knows what you want before you do.
Gina May – Senior dancer, unofficial queen of the girls, runs the back hall with a soft word or a blade.
Lucky Freddie – Door guard, war vet, never blinks, never drinks.
Regulars
- Billy E – Often uses the place as neutral meeting ground
- Cece Fields – Occasionally rents the private room for “fundraising events”
- Tino "Lefty" Morelli – Outfit courier with too much cash and too few brains
- Jules the Book – Keeps quiet tabs on who bets what in the basement
- Mira Rose – Veil-walker posing as a dancer, offers special services to those who speak the right words
Notes
- A Veil resonance pulses faintly in the private event room, especially during lunar events
- One of the basement rooms is always cold, even with the heat running—rumored to have been used for punishment
- The casino setup is entirely mobile; tables, chips, and cameras vanish within five minutes flat
- Every girl working in the private hall is vetted personally by Bree—and at least one is an undercover informant
- There’s a second safe hidden in Curly’s upstairs office, behind a framed picture of the 1949 ICB crew
- The club is technically neutral ground, but ICB enforcement operates from a nearby barbershop just in case
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