Must be nice," Hayden says. "Not to have to worry about waiting."
"I do have to worry—"
"Me, I'm up to my ass in alligators. Metaphorically speaking." They eye you, their piercing rising with their eyebrow. "What, didn't expect me to know the word 'metaphorically'?"
"B-I-T-E M-E," Hayden says. "Now, if you're done being annoying, why don't we look at the building?"
Hayden started it! But saying so will just make you sound like a petulant kindergartner. "Sure."
They jerk a thumb at the brick building. "Welcome to the Citrine Theater."
Now that you give the two-story brick building a closer look, its history as a theater becomes a lot more obvious. A triangular nook indents the middle of the first floor façade, with what was clearly a box office on the short leg of the triangle and the entrance on the long leg. The door has an art deco pattern painted on it, now yellowed with age. The brick above the entrance is discolored, probably where a marquee used to be.
"Hasn't been a theater in years, of course." Hayden fishes a key out and unlocks the door. "It was a 'quirky' clothes store for a while." They thump a metal sign next to the door, which reads, "Purse Suit of Fashion." A screw gives up the ghost and the sign clatters to the concrete.
Hayden shrugs. They have to fight the door open. "After you."
This is How a Horror Movie Starts