Internet had always been of the opinion that being late to something was the only way to attend it. He arrived at the Grand Ballroom in flamboyant style with a mask fitting his young face. On each arm, with two more trailing behind him, was a female escort. They were each clad in revealing cocktail dresses that glimmered and matched his bright red jacket. Their masks were all the same as well and they laughed and giggled with no concern as to whose conversation they may be upsetting as they followed Internet to the bar for drinks.
Internet was hoping to get thrown out with his gaggle of women, or at the very least, given one of those stern disapproving looks he was sure an old grandmother might wear when there's not a damn thing she can do about obnoxious youngsters. And he was hoping to get it from Pheme. So connected, was she? So "in the know"? He would show her what connection really was, and how far behind the curve she had become. In the meantime, he was looking forward to mingling with his fellow New Gods, though most of them he found a little on the annoying side. But if he were to be honest with himself, which he rarely ever was, Internet would admit that he was intrigued by Comic Books. Laurie. Even as he was surrounded by beautiful women who laughed at even his bad jokes and wanted nothing more than to please him, his eyes were searching for the short young Goddess.
He knew of her recent troubles. At least, what had been posted online. Of course he did. But he had some burning unanswered questions that he wanted to have cleared up.