Aequitas is, among many different things, a very exclusive club. It is, contradictorily enough, also a very inclusive club. It stands true that many if not most of the people buzzing in line seem wealthy, the sheer diversity in species and walks of life and fashion sense is the most important thing of all. It isn't about how much money you have, nor how much influence, it's just as much about who you are.

And Emma is reaching the front of the line, and fast enough. More than a few anxious people up front have been made to leave or left of their own volition. There seems to be some sort of security check up front.

It comes in the form of a microphone thrust in her face. A very small microphone, held in the grip of a very big hand. The big guy is more than big this up close and personal. He's the living, breathing concept of a brick shit house (and just about as visually appealing).

"Sing a song, pleez."