LAST WEEK, WHEN THE 18-AND-OVER HIPHOP club Studio 420 announced it was shutting its doors, it seemed like another sad casualty of Seattle City Attorney Mark Sidran's war on underage clubs. Studio 420's young owners say that police, bureaucrats, and surrounding residents have unfairly targeted their club, due to its largely underage, black, and Hispanic clientele.

The bruises on David Lattimer's face, however, tell a different story.

Indeed, Studio 420's turbulent history is laced with violence. More specifically, neighbors say, the Capitol Hill club is connected to gay bashing.

"It was really no surprise when it happened," says Lattimer, local drag queen Jackie Hell. "I have lived in this area for 10 years, and it used to be an open, accepting place. But now my friends and I are continually harassed. People shout things out of cars and threaten us, especially when we are in drag." So when Lattimer, dressed as his drag persona, was hospitalized on July 3, no one was surprised.

"My friend Ryan Berg and I had just left Foxes after their Friday show," says Lattimer, who had taken to walking home accompanied. His route led right past 420, and club goers entering or hanging around the place often harassed him. "It wasn't always like this. It used to be fun around here; it used to be safe." Lattimer and his escort were less than a block from 420's entrance when they heard it: "Hey, faggots! Why don't you come over here and suck my dick?" "Really original," Lattimer shot back. Such taunts were common from 420's patrons. But this time, it was more than a taunt.

Lattimer and Berg were surrounded by four young men.

"It was crazy," says Berg. "The leader of the group pulled a board out of the ground that was used to prop up a tree, and smashed [Lattimer] in the head with it. It was a very scary and surreal moment."

The attackers then went for Berg. "But I had my mace out, and they went back into the club," he says. "David was totally unconscious, and bleeding pretty hard. We had to call 911 and check him into Harborview. It was awful."

The SPD took a report from Lattimer at a Capitol Hill apartment at 1:44 a.m., describing "her" as "dazed." Two witnesses filled in the blanks. The assailants were identified as four Hispanic males. The police searched the area, but didn't find the suspects. Harborview Medical Center records confirm that Lattimer was admitted for head lacerations at 3:30 a.m

Police and city officials have received hundreds of noise, drug, and violence complaints about 420. The gay bashing, however, has received scant attention. "Unless it goes on inside or directly in front of the club, you can't prove 420 is responsible," says Dana Neely. She and her boyfriend Joshua Painter are largely responsible for mobilizing the angry community against 420--compiling pages and pages of police reports and 911 calls. It all started out as a noise problem, says Painter, whose apartment lies just a few feet from the club's rear entrance. But violence, he says, has become the primary issue. "There have been people beaten and robbed in our alleyway; we have seen it, and they definitely target the drag queens."

Studio 420 is located near the intersection of East Denny and East Olive Way, an area that has traditionally been known as a bastion of gay--and specifically drag--activity. Several long-standing gay establishments share the area, and three of them--Foxes Tavern, the Crescent, and the Coffee Messiah--host frequent drag shows and cabarets. "People have stopped coming to our Saturday night cabaret because of 420," laments Coffee Messiah owner Tim Turner. "People are afraid for their safety. I have been called faggot and had my life threatened. I have had beer bottles and lit cigarettes thrown at me. If [420's patrons] don't have the maturity to deal with the people who live and work around here, they shouldn't be here," he says of the neighborhood. "It's a question of respect. We don't need this shit."

"We have all had the same problems," says John Jordan--another longtime gay resident, who has also suffered harassment at the hands of 420's patrons. He questions the common sense of allowing a place that attracts such an allegedly homophobic and violent clientele to operate in the largely gay Capitol Hill neighborhood. "That place has brought so much hate to our neighborhood. Ever since it opened we have all been harassed."

Another local drag queen, Summers Eve, was attacked the same night as Lattimer, says Jesse Vault, manager of Foxes Tavern (Summers Eve could not be reached for comment). "It's tragic. What are these people thinking? This kind of shit went out in the '70s."

At a time when Seattle City Attorney Mark Sidran is waging an energetic and highly publicized campaign to crack down on underage clubs, many believe the complaints about 420 are tied to bias against its youthful, minority patrons. 420's young, Iranian-born owners, Angel and Amir Taherazer, have protested to neighbors that race is a motivating factor in the outcry against their club. Angel, 19, dismisses her critics as a "bunch of white middle class people sitting in one room talking about diversity." And she denies that gay bashing is a problem at her club. "I don't know what they're talking about. There's no problem with gay bashing at Studio 420... There was one fight, and they don't even know if the guy came from Studio 420. We get complaints on our club when we're closed."

"The City of Seattle isn't ready for a club [of this type] right now," she adds. "People forget what it is like to be young. We just wanted to fill a need, to give these kids somewhere to go, something to do. [Most] people have a place to go, to get to do what they want to do. Why can't [we] do the same?"

Still, the Taherazers have no intention of giving up completely. "We want people to get hip to the idea of a teen presence in Seattle," Angel said. She expressed plans to relocate the club to the Greenwood area, and turn the current home of 420 into a resource center for kids trying to open clubs in Seattle.

Neighborhood residents are skeptical about Taherazer's announcement. They have seen 420 "close" before. "When they get in serious trouble, they close for a while and let things calm down, but just when you think everything's okay, they open again and it all starts over," says Cosette Bucher, manager of the neighboring Fontaine Apartments, who says she has witnessed a dozen beatings. 420 was closed temporarily by the city in March, for lack of a Certificate of Occupancy permit.

Lattimer and others echo Bucher's skepticism about 420's demise. "If its true, it's fantastic," Lattimer says, "but personally, I don't trust it. We'll just have to wait and see."

Whether the change is permanent or not, residents are enjoying the long-awaited respite. "It is a completely different neighborhood when that place is closed," says Bucher. "I just pray it lasts."