[center][h2][color=6ecff6]Clementine Mercer (aka Miss Silk)[/color][/h2][/center][hr]
[i]A few days ago.[/i]

The lights illuminating the band's corner of the venue went down. With a slow breath, Clementine cleared her mind and stilled her beating heart. Stay calm and composed, you're not just a singer, you're an icon. Or rather, you could be one day. In the dark, she turned her back to the audience. One, two, three, four. The spotlight above her head snapped into life, and she felt the heat upon her pale skin. With a quick turn, she sent the skirt of her elegant red gown whirling. The band behind her started up again in earnest as the song she was performing reached its finale. With one quick, confident movement she brought the microphone to her shining red, plump lips and let the music flow through her. 

[color=6ecff6]"Fill my heart with song,"[/color] Her voice rang out, rich and powerful. This was her moment. The big finish. The last hurrah. The soulful solo. She had to, no, she NEEDED to nail this. Just like every other time. She needed to be perfect in her execution. With a step forward, her leg parted her dress at the slit in the side, and drew a few wolf-whistles from the crowd. The compliments were appreciated. They helped her to stay sure of herself. With another step, her expensive red pump clacked onto the floor as she made her way down the steps from the band's platform.

[color=6ecff6]"Let me sing for-ever more,"[/color] Yes. All she wanted was to sing. Sing for the rich, for the poor, for the young and for the old. Let her sing. Let her been heard and be seen. For as long as she lives, however long that is. Her steps grew faster as she spun again to send her dress into a twist around her hips. Careful now, she told herself, a fall could ruin the entire show. Her spin stopped at a table close to the stage, as she bent down to grab at the tie of one of the more familiar patrons to her shows. With a soft tug, she almost begged her way through the next line.

[color=6ecff6]"You are all I long for, all I worship... and adore,"[/color] With that line, she could feel the man's spine tingle and his skin raise like goose-flesh. She had drawn them in, and now was the time to gobble them up. To leave an impression and make them her public. Fans are made with performance, not with prestige. A final tug on the man's tie before she went sauntering off past another male patron, dragging her delicate finger along the curvature of his jawline. All these motions and actions and interactions, all tricks of the trade, taught to her and practiced over and over again. Just as always she skirted the neck with her nail, and just as always the poor sap leaned into it.

[color=6ecff6]"In other words, please be truuuuuuueeee,"[/color] She smiled as she had practiced before, soft but seductive. Rich red lips parting to reveal her pearly white teeth, she locked eyes with several members of the audience as she made her way back up to the band's platform. The band was having its fun too, even as the spotlight was following her. They were striking up, reaching crescendo as she strode over to sit atop the grand piano. In any other moment, Clementine would have told you that she was a simple girl, but right now, she felt like a god-damned diva.

[color=6ecff6]"In other words, in other wooorrrrrrds,"[/color] Her voice powered on, clear as she turned on her behind to lay on her back atop the piano. Her eyes searched the crowd, as she arched her back and kicked a leg up in the air. Her skirt fell slightly and  drew another series of cat-calls and wolf-whistles. Just as she wanted, as she needed. Because now was her time. She had them baited, hooked and now all she had was pull them in for the kill.

[color=6ecff6]"I." [/color]

She sat up slow, rising chest first as her platinum blonde, almost-white hair tumbled from her head like a flurry of fresh snow. She continued the performance with a crossing of her legs.

[color=6ecff6]"Looooove." [/color]

She lifted her arm slowly, pointing out to the crowd as all the spotlights pointed at her. The piano hit its final few notes as she brought her finger to her lip and playfully dragged down on it. With a wink at her audience, she almost giggled through the final word, but managed to nail it.

[color=6ecff6]"You~."[/color]

The lights cut out on her form as the venue erupted into applause. The dimmer lights came back up as the band stood or sat, giving out their respective thanks in the form of bows, nods or in Clementine's case, blowing kisses and curtsying. She was made for the stage, for the big lights, and it was moments like this that made her feel that was truest.
[hr]
[i]Present day.[/i]

"Miss Silk and the Soft Sons, everyone!" The earphones connected to her smartphone blared into her ears, calling her and her bandmates by their stage moniker. The name made her smile. Miss Silk. Picked for her by a friend. It matched how she held herself. How she thought about that side of herself. So soft and beautiful. So lush and lovely. Always dressed to the nines and keeping all eyes on her. If only she could be Miss Silk all the time.

Clementine looked down at herself and sighed. Her attire now was... less than fabulous. Grey track-pants, black hi-top sneakers, a maroon tank-top and one of her MANY oversized jackets. She looked slightly like she had fallen out of the rubbish heap, as she waited on the sidewalk for her friend to text her back. Her phone's camera revealed what she really looked like as she turned it to the front-facing camera. No makeup, dark bags under her eyes, cheeks slightly sunken and her features were a touch too sharp for her liking. Ugh. At least her skin was clear. Nice and smooth. She had spent too long working on it for her not to have AT LEAST that.

With a sigh, she put her phone away and looked over to the landscape. Los Angeles. The setting sun colored the sky a lovely blend purple, blue, red and orange. All pollution and refracted light, but the beauty of it was entrancing in its own way. She had always loved sunsets. Almost as much as she loved the stage.

One this she DIDN'T like was the barging and shifting that came with a crowd moving past her with such frantic manner, just as the crowd was now doing coming from the direction of the L.A. Center for Humans. This would have slipped beneath her notice as a minor annoyance, had the gunfire not started roaring. That held her attention and soon after, had her moving with the crowd as something compelled her forward. Now, don't get her wrong, she was not the type to discriminate, but she had lived in Metahuman central for long enough to know that there was always trouble a-brewing somewhere and it usually involved either them or those that hated them. Humans like her were just not made to tussle with gods made man, like the Metas were. The crowd surged in response to the action, and she followed suit, both wanting to not get shot and wanting to have and excuse to be away from the blasted sidewalk she was told to wait at.

But what could be waiting for her within the crowd that she waded through? And why did she feel as if something was pushing her, aside from the frightened folk around her, and urging her to keep moving with the herd?