“And when I get back, guess what?”

“What?”

“Hal reams me out for taking so long!”

“What a jerk."

"I know!" Ava huffed and collapsed back onto Brooke’s bed. “Least I wasn’t fired. God, this sucks. What was I supposed to do? Not help people when I hear them in trouble?”

“You’re doing the right thing. They can’t take that from you.” Brooke only seemed to be halfway paying attention to Ava’s ranting, giving rote responses of the sort she had heard a thousand times before. But that was fair. Ava complained a lot and she knew it, and Brooke was a saint for putting up with her.

Plus, Ava hadn’t chosen the most opportune time to raid Brooke’s room. She was in an ongoing match of League of Supers, some—what had Brooke called it?—MOBA everyone and their mother played, if you were into that sort of thing. Brooke’s headphones were edged to the side so she could listen to Ava whine about her day. How she managed to focus on a video game while giving half-way coherent replies to Ava was a bit impressive. But Ava’s roommate had always been a genius, all the back to elementary school, so her excellent multitasking was a given. Ava wouldn’t be surprised if she cured cancer tomorrow, or something—that was the level of smarts Brooke carried around with her.

And did little with. If only she weren’t so lazy. A sentiment Ava had tried to bring up a few times, but Brooke wasn’t receptive to her suggestions, and Ava knew it wasn’t really her business, anyway. Brooke paid her half of the rent, and Ava wasn’t her mom, so … not much recourse there. Even if Ava’d keep gently hinting at it.

“You winning?” Ava asked after a few moments of staring up at Brooke’s bedroom ceiling, her rant having winded down.

 “Losing horribly,” Brooke replied. “My teammates could be replaced by lowly evolved simians and I don’t think I’d see an appreciable difference.”

Ava laughed. Brooke didn’t sound upset. There’d been a time when she’d get heated about winning or losing, but these days, she’d grown ‘dead inside’ and ‘immune via apathy’—her words. 

She was supposed to be pretty good at the game. Star Challenger rank, whatever that meant. Ava didn’t play video games. All she knew about them was from osmosis, being around Brooke so much. 

“Am I bothering you?”

Brooke glanced her way. “Of course not. You never are.”

Even having known Brooke for a decade, her frank honesty could be disarming—and embarrassing. She and Brooke had always been close friends, though for somewhat inexplicable reasons, with how different the two of them were.

“Sorry for talking your ear off, either way.”

“It’s fine. I like talking with you.”

“Even when it’s a hundred percent whining? And you’re busy?”

“Sure. Besides, you’re distracting me from the clown fiesta.” She gestured at her screen.

Ava laughed. “Well, there’s the silver lining. How much longer?”

“One of the mouth-breathers is holding us hostage. Thinks it’s winnable. So … a bit.”

“Maybe he’s right. What happened to never surrender?”

“It’s called cutting your losses.”

“Cede the battle for the war,” Ava said with a sage nod. “They haven’t studied strategy enough.”

“Study implies capability to read. I find myself doubtful.”

Ava fiddled with her hands, staring up at the ceiling, listening to Brooke’s keyboard clack and her mouse drag across her mousepad. Eventually, she shoved herself up and looked around Brooke’s room, intending to entertain herself for a few minutes, not wanting to keep interrupting Brooke while her game was still going on.

Brooke’s room was the same as always. Tall bookshelf crammed with manga and anime that must have cost a mountain of cash to obtain, take-out containers littering the floor next to her desk, energy drinks piled to the right of her mousepad. It didn’t smell, at least, but Ava didn’t condone the sloppiness. Brooke didn’t leave the common areas a mess, so Ava didn’t have ground to stand on to chide her—her room was hers to do with as she pleased. And it wasn’t like Brooke ever had visitors. Brooke’s only ‘IRL’—her terminology, not Ava’s—friend was probably Ava herself, for all that she had a friend group she talked online with.

Something caught her eye, though. A white-backed manga was laying face down on her nightstand, spine bent from laying open. Ava tilted her head, curious. While Brooke was a messy person overall, the one thing she kept meticulous care of was her collection—clearly, she’d forgotten about it, because it would have been bookmarked and put away.

Ava shuffled down the length of the bed to grab the book and close it, preserve the spine from further damage.

And more by accident than intent, she caught a glimpse of the cover page.

Ava’s eyes widened.

She’d known some of the stuff Brooke liked to read could have … racy … imagery, but the scantily clad group of women on the front bordered more on pornographic than it did titillating, even if there wasn’t actually anything indecorous showing. A brief internal struggle warred inside Ava, but curiosity won. She had first picked the book up with her thumb in the center, so she flipped it over to the page Brooke had been on.

Ava squeaked.

There, sprawled out across two pages, were some very detailed images of a nice young woman being violated in ways that probably wasn’t good for her anatomy. But that wasn’t the most shocking part. The violator was, in fact, another nice young woman—and not wielding any kind of toy, but it seemed that in this fictional universe, women had access to some biological instruments typically available only to men.

Very large, detailed equipment, currently being used to stretch out the poor recipient. Though ‘poor’ might be a misnomer … based on the expression she was wearing, she seemed to be having a good time.

Ava hid the book behind her just as Brooke looked over—she’d heard Ava squeak.

She studied Ava suspiciously for a second. “What?”

“What?” Ava returned lamely, failing to come up with a good excuse for the noise she’d just made.

“Why are you blushing, Aves?” Brooke’s eyes flicked from her to the nightstand. She paused.

Then paled.

Brooke yanked off her headphones, then froze halfway from getting out of her chair. Sat back down, forcibly casually. “Hey,” Brooke started, painfully nonchalant. “There wasn’t an, uh. Book. On my nightstand. Was there?”

“I didn’t see anything!” Ava closed her eyes and thrusted the book out.

Brooke stumbled forward and grabbed it, almost tripping over the cords running from her computer. “Oh my god! Why are you snooping? Ava!”

“It was laying there, open! I—I wanted to preserve the spine! I know you care about nerd shit like that!”

“It’s—I—You didn’t see anything, right?”

Ava shook her head rapidly, blonde hair bouncing.

They stared at each other. Ava wasn’t sure who was blushing harder.

Brooke spun around and shoved the book into a random place on her shelf, not taking particular care. Ava doubted the spot was usually where she kept her … second, less-appropriate collection, that Ava had just discovered existed.

She turned back to Ava. Neither had anything to say. There was an awkward staring contest, before Brooke laughed, then shook her head. “This is so mortifying. I have a game to finish.” She sat back down and pointedly ignored what had happened. Ava took note of how she didn’t put her headphones on.

“It’s um,” Ava tried. “The art was really good?”

“Ava, please.”

“Really … detailed. Impressive craftsmanship.”

“Ava.”

“Right.” A few moments of silence. “I just hadn’t expected you to … like something like that.”

“You said you didn’t see anything.”

“I didn’t.”

“Please stop talking.”

“You just always come off as so innocent. So …”

“I will go find a bottle of bleach and end my suffering, if you insist on continuing this.”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about! Everyone has some, um, things they like. That aren’t common. And I guess everything considered, it’s hardly crazy, right?”

“I’m not responding.”

“Basically just, realistic strap-ons. I can get behind that.”

She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. Brooke turned to her, eyebrows raising. “You can, can you?”

“I-I’m going to go get some water,” Ava stuttered, then fled.

She took brief solace in the kitchen, organizing her thoughts, before returning to Brooke’s room. By that time, Brooke’s game had finished. She was browsing some forums, and by the dark background and logo at the top, it looked like Cape Central—the premier website for latest superhero and villain content. Brooke had always been a bit of a cape geek, and that’d only gotten worse when Ava had come into her powers.

“Did you win?” Ava asked.

“Take a guess.”

“Yes?”

“You’re pretty bad at guessing.”

The awkwardness, at least, had faded. She’d known Brooke forever, so it took a lot to burn past their comfortable repertoire, and whenever it did happen, things resolved quickly. 

Though some still lingered. She’d discovered a few things about her friend she’d never have expected. Brooke had always seemed so … straight-laced and composed. Innocent, even. 

Did it mean she was gay? It was just porn, so Ava shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions. She’d always figured Brooke straight, or even asexual. They didn’t talk about that kind of thing, well, ever. Both of them were pretty awkward about it. Ava wasn’t a virgin, but she’d never had much romantic success—mostly because she’d been too busy with other stuff. Life was hard for a foster kid with big dreams and no connections.

“So,” Brooke said, scrolling through the website and not glancing back at her, “you said you wanted to talk, last night.”

“Yeah. I’m sure you know what about.”

“Your recent discovery.”

That her powers had grown stronger after the news coverage. That’d taken some talking over to figure out. Brooke had been the one who suggested the idea, and it had been the thing that made most sense, though there were some runner-up theories. Powers could be a tricky thing, and a person’s best bet was listening to their gut. As soon as Brooke had proposed the idea, Ava had known she was right. For heaven’s sake, Ava’d named herself ‘Spotlight’ before she’d even known. Providence had a sense of humor like that. Not that she actually believed in providence. Still, a funny coincidence.

“I haven’t been able to give it too much thought," Ava said, "but the next step is obvious.”

Brooke nodded, still staring at her screen and not at Ava. Ava didn’t take offense; Brooke was a bit odd around people, and had as much as outright said eye contact was difficult, even with Ava—despite that they were best friends for half their lives. “Marketing campaign.”

“Exactly.” While Ava’d only been in the business for a little over three months now, Brooke had been instrumental in helping her get going. There was a surprising amount of difficulty in starting superhero life. Costumes, permits, signing up with the Hero association, on and on. The good guys were, like usual, fucked over by bureaucracy . But Brooke was good at making things happen, and great with ideas—with strategy. Ava trusted her advice implicitly.

“Well,” Brooke said, “bluntly put, that’s gonna be a nightmare. Your new potential, growing with popularity, is insane … but as it is, you’re not much to talk about.” Brooke paused and looked over. “Professionally speaking. You’re an amazing person.”

Ava laughed. Her lack of social deftness was both a blessing and curse at times. It hurt to hear her best friend confirm what everyone else said—that Spotlight didn’t have much going for her, skill-wise. Hard light constructs were useful, but not especially rare, and Ava’s were weaker than most. “Don’t worry about stepping on my toes. Give it to me straight. Sounds like you have an idea?”

“Not really,” Brooke admitted. “Marketing’s not my wheelhouse.”

Ava deflated. She was so used to Brooke swooping in with brilliant ideas she’d half expected it to be a foregone result that she’d have something. “Oh.”

“Going public with the whole, ‘popularity empowers me' thing won’t do much, I think,” Brooke said. “Everyone’ll think it’s bullshit, because a power like that hasn’t been heard of. Even if it would work, though, I’d still think it a bad idea. It’d put a target on your back for both villains and heroes.”

Ava nodded. The power-hungry nature of supers didn’t extend only to the darker half; hero life was just as backstabbing and grasping. From what she’d heard, at least. Ava wasn’t important enough to have been involved in any serious hero politicking. But everyone knew it existed. The Hero Association’s top dogs were always in some scandal with each other, and the cast of S-Classes rotated a bit too fast to make any real sense.

“So,” Brooke concluded, “I’m pretty stumped. On something clever, at least. There’s slow and steady growth, but that’s not what you want, I assume.”

Ava sighed. They sat in silence for a bit.

Brooke paused, then tilted her head—but she didn’t say anything. Ava recognized the action. She leaned forward in anticipation.

Brooke shook her head, then resumed scrolling.

“What?”

“Sorry?”

“You had an idea!”

“N-No I didn’t.”

Now, Brooke might not be socially affluent, but she didn’t stutter. “Yes, you did. Please, I’ve known you for ten years. What is it?”

Brooke hesitated, then shook her head a second time. “No,” she said. “It was stupid.”

“Let’s hear it.” Brooke’s stupid ideas were ten times smarter than Ava’s good ones.

“And inappropriate.”

That clarification managed to give her pause, because it’d come out of left field. Inappropriate? “Sorry?”

“It’s just … after the whole …” Brooke waved her hand toward her bookshelf, and Ava looked at it—then blushed, remembering what had happened. “I mean, just, a phrase popped in my head. ‘Sex sells’. You know?” While Brooke had already not been looking at Ava, now it seemed pointed. Deliberate.

“What?”

“You just, you have the body for it, don’t you? And the—god, everything. Seems like there’s an obvious way for you to get popular.”

Ava was briefly at a loss for words.

“Look,” Brooke said. She clicked around on her computer, bringing up a new website. “The top ten heroes by popularity, right now. Seven are girls. Look at their costumes. And even the three men.”

Ava didn’t need to be explicitly told what Brooke was getting at.  

“You think they couldn’t fix those bulges if the costume designers didn’t want to?” Brooke asked. “We’re talking millionaire heroes, they've got the budget. And the girls. Seriously.” Brooke zoomed in on how tightly the costumes clung to their stomach and chests. A few of the top heroines showed enough skin to be outright scandalous.

“I-I get what you’re saying, Brooke, but I like my costume.”

“I know. It’s very you. And cute.”

It somehow felt like an insult.

“But I’d be talking about a lot more than a costume, if we did this,” Brooke said. “But like I said, it’s a stupid idea. If you’re not comfortable, that’s much more important.”

“I’m—I’m just, a bit caught off guard. More than the costume? What do you mean?”

“Never mind.”

“Please, I’m not offended. I want to hear.”

Brooke hesitated. “Well, if we’re talking about quick marketing, there’s a few things proven to work, not that I’m an expert. Be interesting, be different, be offensive. A skimpy costume might draw a few eyes, and it’s definitely what you’ll want to do if you go down this path, but by itself? It’s none of the three.”

“R-Right.”

“So you’d want to be aggressive. Offend people’s sensibilities, have conservative moms clutching their pearls and complaining to the Association about what you’re doing. Be different, in the sense your uniform is even more lewd than what the public’s grown to expect, among other things—behaviors, sponsorships, so on. Be a porn company’s mascot, who knows? And some kind of spin, that makes the whole ploy yours. Fills the ‘unique’ qualifier.” Brooke chewed her lip. “I’ll have to think on that. But there’s already a few ideas I have, especially in regards to using the advent of our century—the internet. Streaming? Fansite you participate in daily? In a meaningful capacity, not what the PR people do. You’d be looking for a rabid fanbase, and seeing how I’m terminally online, I know how to go about that. I really think this has a chance of working, we just have to—”

 Brooke paused.

“Not that it’s happening,” she said. “Sorry, got carried away.”

“It sounds like you think this has merit.” Ava was trying not to think about the details.

“It does. I’m pretty confident in that. But it’s not something you want to do, so.”

A long silence. “If it works, maybe it is.”

Brooke glanced at her. “Ava, you turn red at even the mention of sex.”

“S-So do you!”

“And I know I couldn’t do this,” she pointed out. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“I can be sexy!”

“That’s not the part that’s in question. Obviously you can. You already are.”

Ava blushed, and Brooke pointed at her face.

“See, that’s the problem.”

“So what? I’ll get used to it.”

“You’re talking like you’ve made your mind up.”

“It's embarrassing, but I’m starting to see your point.” Ava breathed in. “Obviously I’ll want to think about it, but unless we come up with something better, maybe this is our way forward. It’d be for the greater good, wouldn’t it? Popularity makes me stronger, and I’d be better at fighting bad guys off. What’s showing some skin, in exchange for that?”

“That’s true,” Brooke said. “But … are you sure?”

“Just—just give me a day or so. To think.”

“Of course. It’s not something to rush into.”