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Sunday, June 15, midnight. Uniun nightclub on Adelaide Street West.

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Around the corner and down a dark alley, men with earpieces and black shirts guard cattle barriers. Crammed into lines cluster the promise of Toronto’s future: young men and women, their wisps of clothing unsuited for the crisp night air, hoping to enter the club.

“I’m on the guest list,” I tell one of the men in black shirts.

“The guest list is closed,” he replies. I have no idea what this means.

His partner clutches a clipboard. He makes no effort to locate my name, but merely asks why he should let me in.

I mention a publicist, and we are through. We join a second line. Women in black T-shirts pat us down, and we enter the club. Inside, LED stalactites pulse to the beat. Multi-coloured search lights swivel; flat screens display psychedelic patterns. Writhing forms pack the dance floor.

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Uniun nightclub belongs to Charles Khabouth, whose company, Ink Entertainment, owns a score of nightclubs and employs 1,500 people. He recalls the early days of Toronto’s entertainment district: “When I started, my rent was $4 a foot, parking was free after 6 p.m., and the streetlights went out at midnight.”