Imagine the biggest bedroom you possibly imagine then make it ten times bigger, fill the room with a wall projector, a queen double bed and add the latest Macintosh desktop and you probably have the size of the bedroom which sets the scene. Add a walk-in wardrobe, soundproof the room and paint the walls purple and blue then you have the complete picture. The person residing in the room was none-other than the beautiful Cassandra Fell, head cheerleader of Skyway High.
Behind stained glassed windows the world darkens. A tiny nest of baby birds chirps, their voices drowned by the amplified news report blaring from the projector. Writing in her diary, Cassandra was born to be a journalist and knew the second she finished university she would become part of the team at North News and a few years afterwards, she would be the Editor-In-Chief. A birthday gift from her late parents who before their deaths owned every piece of media in the Skyway North Region, an empire which on her brother’s twenty-first would be split 50/50.
“Tonight at the Ambassador’s Reception, we were lucky enough to witness one of the most wonderful speeches ever spoken in our society. Our Ambassador’s words were heart-breakingly beautiful and whilst publicly this television station must sit on the fence, I hope the nation votes with the Ambassador and buries this most disgusting display” speaks the Sherri the Anchor-woman of South News. Rolling her eyes, Cassandra grabs her universal remote controller and flicks the off switch. There was no point listening to such propaganda bullshit. It was no needed and nor was it telling the entire truth. Her father once taught her that money walks and although in the long-shot it doesn't make you happy, in the short term for say an “election”, the money makes the world go round. If she wanted the truth, she would go to Joanna; at least she would speak her mind.
Suddenly her computer bleeps making Cassandra’s face light up. Rolling over, she opens up her instant messenger and reads her latest message. ‘That man must be blind. OR if he isn't, he must be some kind of bastard. Maybe, we should buy J. a gun? – Oscar’ Chuckling quietly to herself, she replies instantaneously. Oscar, the best friend a girl could ever ask for. Super sexy, more than a dozen brain cells and respectable. Although with all his oozing masculinity, it was his heart and friendship she was really after.
Abruptly a deep voice whispers into her ear “Oh heavens! It appears my most gorgeous sister has finally met her match. Shall I begin planning his reception”. Screeching, she picks up a stuffed owl and chucks it in the direction of the voice. The voice laughs as her face begins turning beetroot red. Picking up another stuffed animal she chucks it at her brother.
“Brother, remove your body from my domain this instant. I have asked you once, I have asked you a thousand times, respect my privacy and I will respect yours. Now leave me!” Cassandra shouts at Adrian who stands by the door. He replies simply “Denial, hmm… Maybe you are falling for him. And why must Mr Fluffy and Hoot be chucked at me. I only wished to say Goodnight” before leaving the room. Screeching once more, she stands momentarily before collapsing onto her bed muttering “brothers” to herself.