New York, 1922. The parties are raging, the lights are flashing, and the music is swinging. This city is filled to the brim with night clubs and speakeasies, but there is one in particular that sticks out from the rest due to its almost, "supernatural" popularity. The Black Impala was located right on the corner of Broadway and 43rd and anybody who was anybody spent every moonlit hour twirling on its dance floor, laughing at its bar, and drinking in the swinging music and golden atmosphere. It was a place you could lose yourself in. You stepped through those big oak doors and all your troubles and worries got caught in the threshold. Everyone from diplomats to drunks, to drunken diplomats was welcomed at the Black Impala. It was a nonstop party from dusk till dawn. However, while some people came to hear the superbly talented house band blare their horns, and more came to see the gorgeous architecture from the marble pillars, to the vaulted ceiling, to the golden chandeliers, the best sight to see at The Black Impala had two green eyes and served drinks at the always busy bar.
It was a particularly busy night that Friday. The air of the cub was permeated with cigarette smoke, and lost inhibitions. Dean Winchester had a hard time keeping the bar well stocked, though he didn't mind much. He lived for these nights. Smiles everywhere you looked, eyes that glittered, and a "live like there's no tomorrow" feeling in the air. He chuckled to himself as he got the usual drunks another round. While Dean tended the bar, his brother Sam, being the more sociable, wandered the floor talking to patrons, and keeping the good times going. He had a way with people that Dean couldn't quite comprehend. He always had his hair slicked back and he wouldn't be caught dead without the smartest suits you've ever damn seen. Tonight he was surrounded by a mob of beautiful girls with cherry red lips, and short, beautiful, hair trying to flirt their way into his heart, but Sam got this treatment every night and he knew just how to let them down easy while still keeping the mood lighthearted. They truly were a spectacular team. It was no wonder why they were the most popular spot in town.
The night continued to swing higher than the moon all the way until closing time. They eventually had to tell people to leave, so they could get the place back in shape for tomorrow. The patrons complied begrudgingly, but were satisfied with the promise of another amazing night on the morrow. The Black Impala was a completely different place when it was empty. Most of the band left besides Adam, the sax player. You see the Winchester brothers were not a twosome, but rather a trio. Their lesser known brother Adam led the band with his sultry saxophone playing, and though he didn't get quite the attention that his other coworkers received, he still had his devoted fans. He played quiet melodies while Dean restocked, and Sam swept the empty dance floor. "You were on fire tonight Adam. I don't know how you do it!" Sam complimented, "I swear sometimes I think you're in cahoots with the devil to get skills like that. "Practice, Sammy-boy," Adam replied coolly, "That's all there is to it." "Hey lovebirds, we need to get this place ship-shape for tomorrow." Dean said to his younger brothers. He loved the knuckle heads, but he had to keep them in line. Adam began to pitch in and wiped down tables, as the three brothers enjoyed the quiet, atmosphere that filled the club after closing time. As they finished things up, they all were finally hit by the exhaustion of running a popular night club and decided that it was time to call it a night, or morning, it was easy to lose track of time in The Black Impala.
The famous night club had two floors. The main ballroom, which was what the customers saw. Its large interior held the dance floor, small band stage, the bar, and it even had a small balcony looking out over the whole scene, reached by a small staircase. Also at the top of this staircase on the second floor of the famous club, was the home of the Winchester brothers. Through a locked door, there was enough room for a small kitchen, a modest living room, a bathroom, and three respective bedrooms for each man. The home of the Winchesters wasn't trashy, but it wasn't lavish either. It was definitely a contrast to the wonderland downstairs. Dean didn't mind much though. He loved his job, his home, his family, and near every other aspect of his life. The only thing missing, he thought as he studied his reflection in the bathroom mirror, was someone to share his life with, but even that didn't bother him too much. He began to wash the night off of his face when a sharp rap on the door indicated an impatient Winchester on the other side, "Hurry up Dean, other people need to get in there." Sam yelled through the closed door. Suddenly, there was a huge knock at the main door downstairs. All three mid-undressed brothers rushed down to see who would be calling at this hour. Dean opened the large door to reveal a man with slick dark hair, piercing blue eyes, a sharp black suit with a blue tie, and heavy tan trenchcoat. The stranger looked at each of the three semi-undressed brothers standing confused before him, "Am I interrupting something?" He said in the most mesmerizing voice Dean had ever heard.