#45, Wall-throwing

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In retrospect, Tamira wasn't sure if it had been good or bad that she hadn't allowed herself to cry a few tears after what had happened in the club – that way people would have seen the incident in an entirely different light

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In retrospect, Tamira wasn't sure if it had been good or bad that she hadn't allowed herself to cry a few tears after what had happened in the club – that way people would have seen the incident in an entirely different light.

Because, how else could it be these days, someone had been ready to document the whole thing so that the media had something to talk about the next day.

"This is so unfair," Tamira said the next day at the breakfast table in their kitchen. Sleepy and only a bit groggy (and with only a minor headache this time around, since she'd cut back on the cocktails and the incident had shocked out all the alcohol from her system anyways), she hugged her coffee mug close to her as she scanned the different articles on her tablet PC.

Her mom and best friend sat on the other side of the table, nodding solemnly.

"'Football player and gender equality rights fighter Tamira Singer was caught out and about in Barcelona grinding with a guy.'," Tamira read one of the sentences in yet another article, her voice bitter. "'That girl has an interesting interpretation of what gender equality is supposed to look like. Apart from the thing that can only loosely be described as a 'dress', Singer seemed to have forgotten the meaning of feminism when she got down to business with an unknown young man at the 'Colloseum' club – he really got a handful with that woman, pun intended! And she certainly didn't seem to mind.'" Tamira scoffed. "Mind my foot in your ass, you stupid journalist."

The content was pretty much the same all over the news. The wording and meaning between the lines, however, ranged from 'sexy ass-shaking with the Qatar prince-replacement' to 'this indecent behavior comes from the woman who's been fighting for gender equality these past few months'. It was making her want to puke all over the yellow press.

"I can't believe that there are people out there using a fun night out for attacking the concept of gender equality. And feminism!" Emma said, shaking her head. The disgust was clearly audible in her voice. "We're back to the middle ages, if we have even left them at all, where women can't be allowed to have fun and not be allowed to dress as they please or do as they please. This just shows us that, no matter what, you really can't win without a dick between your legs in this world. Even an assault is being used against the victim!"

Tamira sighed heavily, starting to think so as well. It was a way too depressing thought for a saturday morning.

Emma went on. "And it wasn't even like you asked for it! That asshole just walked over to you to feel you up and do God only knows what! As if he's entitled to it by having a dick, however tiny that probably is. It even shows in that stupid video that you wanted to get away from him and Alexia came to your help! At least, the beginning of that. Then it 'conveniently' stopped."

Oh, had she mentioned there was a video?

There was a video.

Neat, right? It still wasn't enough to show everyone that she was the victim here. No, she surely had asked for it, alright!

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