Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #13 April 2015 | Page 86

Tina shrugged. “Who’s gonna win that one? Cassie aka super girl Diamond Ice or Ben the Old Guy
Agent?”

ran more towards classic alt-rock. As the repetitive
beat wrapped around her body, she thought about
requesting a change of tunes.

“Old? He’s only 40.”

Better not, Cassie thought, not my house, not my rules.

Tina smirked. “I stand by my statement.”

“Baby, you know I love nothing more than to hang
with the McQ.”

“Ageist.”
“Is that a thing?”
The limo slowed to a stop. The driver got out, passed
around the back of the car and opened the passenger
door.
“Miss Moore, we’re here,” he said.
Cassie slipped out of the limo and into the glare of
neon and the tiny pulses of phone camera LED lights.
She felt a little rush of energy, the thrill of being at the
centre of attention. She gave the crowd a wave. Some
of them started chanting, “Fly fly fly.”
Cassie held up her hands and motioned for the crowd
to quiet down. “Babies, if you want to see me fly, you
have got to get your asses into Studio Z, the hottest
club in the city.”
Always plug the product, Cassie thought, that should
make Ben happy.
She swept past the crowd with Tina right behind her.
McQ, the club owner, met Cassie inside. He was
dressed in a $10,000 Armani suit and a dingy Brooklyn Dodgers ball-cap. If it had been anyone else,
Cassie would’ve thought, ‘douchebag, poser,’ or some
other derogatory sentiment. But McQ was the flavour
of the month. He was part of the class of celebrity that
could do no wrong. Just like Cassie.
“Cassie doll, thanks for coming,” McQ said. He gave
her a friendly kiss on the cheek, then escorted her into
the depths of his club. Dubstep assaulted Cassie’s ears.
She was thankful she didn’t have heightened senses;
the club would be unbearable if she had. Instead, she
was merely annoyed at the choice of music. Her tastes

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McQ’s eyes lit up as the inner-player thought he might
be able to get with Cassie. Cassie knew what was
going through his head. She often saw this in men and
women; a slight flush, a little more of a grin, an increase in the rate of breathing. Never going to happen,
she thought. But, she knew that she just had to flirt a
little and McQ would do whatever she wanted.
The dancing, carousing crowd parted as Cassie walked
across the dance floor. She flashed her broad smile
across the adoring faces. A couple of people shouted “Diamond Ice!” She waved, although inside, she
winced. Her agent had insisted that every popular
metahuman had a codename and that she needed one.
Diamond Ice was the one that had focused-grouped
the best. She was just happy he hadn’t forced her wear
a cape.
Tina tapped her shoulder and leaned close to her.
“Hey, is that a new vodka?”
Cassie giggled. “El-oh-el, baby.”
McQ led them to a VIP booth. It was on a raised
platform near the DJ and gave Cassie and Tina a
commanding view of the dance floor. The two women
settled back and watched the beautiful people gyrating
to the music.
“So, what’s the sched?” Cassie asked.
“Thirty minutes here, pressing some flesh, then fifteen
with the DJ, another thirty on the floor,” Tina said.
The next half hour was a stream of VIPs being trickled
to Cassie’s booth, where she would pose for selfies,
trade some pleasantries and dispense hugs to the better
looking men and women. She knew that she had to