QNCC also has a creative board, responsible for shaping its programming. That group includes figures like Telfar Clemens, Hari Nef, Julio Torres, artist and artist, writer, and musician Juliana Huxtable, writer J Wortham, and artist Desi Santiago. “Especially now, when everyone’s becoming more and more marginalized by this [presidential] administration, people need a sanctuary,” Santiago says. “This is the time when we can’t be separated, when we have to be together.”

QNCC’s first event was Slambient, imagined as “a reset” from a long weekend of partying or working at the clubs. On October 5 it welcomed approximately 800 people, who could variously be seen napping, talking, snacking, reading, making out, getting massages, dancing, and stretching in the space. The day-long activation also included ambient DJ sets and well-attended talks about addiction and self-care.

Max Vale, 25, attended hoping to learn more about nightlife from people in the community. “I want to be the good nightlife citizen who can enjoy spaces and add things to those spaces,” he tells me. “I want to be able to contribute to that because it’s done a lot for me.”

Bartender Summer Surgent, 26, was, as they put it, “skeptically confident” about QNCC. “I’m curious to see what [QNCC] becomes, because there’s not really a framework for something like this.”

Young Sun Han, 42, who sees themselves as a rising nightlife elder, is compelled by the idea of a community space that feels at once fun, safe, and sustainable. “By creating something [with a] 501c3 structure, a longer lease, and working with the city, it means that the magic energy and all of the labor that’s put into this can be employed longer,” they say. “I think it’s bringing people together in a way that can be both even more exciting, more joyful, and make sure that we’re protecting each other.”