Chapter 5: It's Okay to Like Me, But the Way You Expressed It Is Criminal

I drew a deep breath, feeling the rapid thrum of my pulse. "Actually, yes," I replied, my voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling within me. "There is something important I need to address."

Standing on the stage, bathed in the piercing glare of the bright lights, and gazing out into the vast expanse of expectant faces, I felt the weight of the moment settle upon my shoulders. I took a deep, grounding breath, the kind that fills your lungs and steadies your nerves.

This was my moment—my singular, irrefutable chance to demonstrate to the world that Claire Madden was not merely an accessory to any man, not a shadow lurking behind someone else's brilliance, but a force of her own.

The interviewer’s eyebrow arched with intrigue. "Go ahead."

"Today," I began, my voice steadies yet brimming with a deep and intense emotion, "I want to seize this platform to delve into the deeply ingrained societal bias against women." The studio fell into a hushed silence, the kind where every breath, every heartbeat, seemed amplified as if the very air was absorbing the weight of my words.

“We exist in a world where women are consistently undervalued, underestimated, and undermined. From the persistent wage gap that continues to plague us to the notorious glass ceiling that looms overhead, from the insidious, subtle biases that infiltrate our everyday interactions to the blatant and unrelenting harassment that many of us endure—it is high time we confronted these pervasive issues head-on. Women are routinely overlooked for promotions and leadership positions, their contributions dismissed or minimized in professional settings. The burden of unpaid labor and domestic responsibilities disproportionately falls on women's shoulders, further hindering their career advancements and personal growth. We face the constant scrutiny of societal expectations, where our worth is often measured by our appearance rather than our abilities or achievements.

Sexual harassment and assault are rampant, not just in the workplace but in every facet of our lives, creating an environment of fear and anxiety that stifles our potential. The lack of representation in politics, media, and corporate boards means our voices and perspectives are frequently ignored or marginalized. Women of color, LGBTQ+ women, and women with disabilities face compounded layers of discrimination, making their struggles even more arduous. Access to healthcare, including reproductive rights, remains a contentious battleground, with women's autonomy over their own bodies under constant threat.

Educational opportunities are still not equal, with girls in many parts of the world denied the chance to learn and grow. Even in sports, the disparity in support, funding, and recognition between male and female athletes is stark. We are often the targets of online abuse and cyberbullying, our digital presence policed and attacked simply for daring to exist and express ourselves.

The impact of these issues is not limited to individual experiences, but reverberates across society, stunting progress and innovation. It is high time we challenged the ingrained structures and cultural norms that perpetuate these injustices. We must advocate for policies that promote equality, invest in women's education and healthcare, and ensure safe and supportive environments for all women to thrive. It is not just a women's issue—it is a human rights issue, and we all have a role to play in dismantling the barriers that hold women back. Only then can we build a more just, equitable, and inclusive world for everyone.”

As I scanned the room, I saw several women who nodded in agreement. Their faces reflected the same determination I felt inside. But then, I met Daisy's gaze. Instead of her usual encouraging smile or teasing smirk, she looked almost pale. On any other day, that would have set off alarm bells in my head. But not today. Today was special, and there was no way I was going to stop now that I had already started.

"The corporate world," I pressed on, my voice unwavering, "is by no means an exception to these injustices. Women are routinely overlooked for promotions, their monumental achievements are minimized, their boundless potential doubted. I have experienced this discrimination firsthand, persistently compared to my male colleagues, perpetually viewed as second best."

As I stood there, my voice projecting with a mix of conviction and simmering anger, I couldn't help but notice the expressions of the leaders in the audience. One by one, their faces drained of color, a ghostly pallor replacing their usual composed facades. It was a gratifying sight, watching their discomfort unfold like a slow-motion car crash. Good, I thought to myself with a flicker of grim satisfaction. Let them feel the discomfort we’ve been forced to endure for so long, the unease that has been our constant companion.

"And that," I continued, allowing my words to slice through the thickening tension like a hot knife through butter, "brings me to another point." I paused deliberately, savoring the moment as I prepared to steer the conversation toward the heart of the matter. "Respect," I said, enunciating the word with a sharp precision that left no room for misunderstanding. "If you like a woman, the most genuine pursuit you can engage in is one rooted in respect, rather than resorting to the insidiousness of verbal harassment."

I let the weight of my words hang heavily in the air, a palpable silence enveloping the room. The atmosphere crackled with an electric tension, every eye in the room fixed on me, every ear straining to catch my next utterance. This was the moment I had meticulously planned for, the culmination of months of frustration and simmering resentment. My gaze zeroed in on Aiden Katz, who was seated somewhere in the middle of the audience. To my immense frustration, his expression remained infuriatingly unreadable, a mask of serene indifference that only fueled my anger.

"Mr. Aiden Katz, my dear boss" I declared, my voice rising with a righteous fury that echoed through the auditorium, "you might think it's okay to harbor feelings for me, but the way you go about expressing them is nothing short of criminal!" The room exploded into a cacophony of gasps, whispers, and the rustling of bodies shifting uncomfortably. The bombshell I had just dropped on live television was monumental. I had accused the company's golden boy of harassment, and the collective shock was almost tangible.

I felt a surge of satisfaction wash over me, a vindication of sorts. Finally, the world would see Aiden’s true face, the man behind the carefully constructed facade. "I hope you remember," I continued, my voice now a fierce crescendo, "that I am Claire Madden, a woman you will never be able to surpass in your lifetime. And today, I am the same woman to unmask you for the hypocritical pervert that you are!"

The crowd's reaction was instantaneous and utterly chaotic, a storm of emotions unleashed in a split second. Some members of the audience erupted into shouts, their voices a cacophony of outrage and disbelief, while others turned to their neighbors, whispering furiously, their hushed tones filled with incredulity and speculation. Amidst this swirling sea of turmoil, Aiden remained an island of calm. He did not move a muscle, his posture unyielding, his gaze unwaveringly locked onto mine. There was no flicker of guilt, no shadow of remorse crossing his features—just that maddeningly serene calm that only served to stroke my anger further.

What was it with Aiden and feigning calm all the time? Seriously, wasn't he embarrassed? Why should I care anyway? Scum was scum, cultured or uncultured.

I took a steadying breath, fighting to keep a straight face as the interviewer wrapped up her introduction. The corners of her mouth twitched, but she mustered a professional smile. "Thank you, Ms. Madden, for your impassioned speech and for bringing these critical issues to light."

I nodded. "You're welcome. It's a battle we must all fight together."

She cleared her throat, trying hard to maintain her composure. She must have been unable to contain her shock at my revelation—understandable. Even I found it hard to match this letter with the 'venerable' Mr. Katz.

"Let's dive a bit deeper into your experience. You mentioned earlier that Mr. Katz's actions were degrading. Can you tell us more about how he allegedly pursued you? Did he, for instance, send you poetry or serenade you with a love song in the break room?"

I was at a loss for words. Come to think of it, Aiden had never done anything to make me think he liked me, that sly fox.

The one-night stand doesn't count.

But if I say no, won't my accusation seem baseless? Should I lie? No... then I'll become the scum I don't want to associate myself with.

With a stiff face, I shook my head. "No."

A shallow smile graced the interviewer's face, then with a gossipy expression, she asked with interest, "Oh? And what about gifts? Did he ever send you anything, like flowers or chocolates, as part of his... advances?"

I shook my head again.

This time, I could tell the interviewer was clearly amused. Before she could press me further, I chipped in, "This is the only letter Mr. Katz has delivered expressing his interest in me. Before this, there's been nothing."

At this point, the interviewer was full-on smiling. Was it so funny? I almost doubted my eyes. This wasn't the reaction I was expecting at all.

"One last question, Ms. Madden. If you had the chance to confront Mr. Katz directly about this, what would you say to him?"

At hearing this, it was as if I had been revitalized. What I couldn't say to Aiden's face, I could say here. How nice. "I would tell him that respect is non-negotiable. If you have feelings for someone, you express them with dignity and consideration, not through harassment and deceit."

The interviewer nodded, her smile finally breaking free as she wrapped up the interview. "Thank you, Ms. Madden. Your message is loud and clear, and I'm sure many will find your courage inspiring."

As the cameras cut to a commercial break, she allowed herself a brief, amused chuckle.

I smiled warmly. "Thank you. It's good to know there are journalists like you who truly understand and support women's struggles."

She replied between giggles, "Absolutely, Claire. Absolutely."

Weird. Were journalists this smiley these days?

With my heart pounding furiously in my chest, a relentless drumbeat echoing in my ears, I walked off the stage, my legs feeling like jelly. The bright lights faded behind me, replaced by the cool shadows of the backstage area. Once backstage, I was met by Daisy, standing there with a look on her face that was a mixture of shock, disbelief, and deep-seated worry.

"Claire, what have you done?" she hissed, her eyes wide with a combination of fear and astonishment.

"I did what was right," I replied firmly, my voice unwavering. "I exposed the truth."

Daisy's eyes darted around nervously before she leaned in closer, her voice trembling as she asked, "Did you read that love letter? The whole thing?"

A frown creased my forehead. "Of course I did," I replied, my tone tinged with frustration. "It was disgusting, Daisy. Completely inappropriate."

Daisy shook her head, her hands trembling as she handed me the envelope once more. "Read it," she insisted, her voice barely above a whisper. "All of it."

Confused and slightly exasperated, I took the envelope from her. As I flipped the letter over and my eyes scanned the final line, a cold wave of realization crashed over me. My heart sank, a leaden weight settling in my chest as I read the words that changed everything: Aiden's client, Lucas Reed.

My mind reeled, a maelstrom of confusion and disbelief. It wasn’t Aiden?

The love letter had come from his client, Lucas Reed? A wave of horror washed over me, a chilling realization that I had publicly accused Aiden of something he hadn’t done.

I had called out the wrong person!!!

I was so impassioned, and actually cursed the wrong person!

Uh oh. I'm screwed.

Marx, Newton, Einstein, you are not alone in heaven with me.