Online Shame, Real-Life Victory

The lines of code glowed, green and satisfying. It was almost 11 PM, and I, Sarah, a data analyst by trade and a numbers person by nature, was finally done for the day. Then, a trending video popped up. My face, my building, and a headline: "Dedicated Employee or Work-Life Imbalance?" My stomach clenched. Comments flooded in, a digital deluge of pity and objectification. "Wow, she looks so plain." "Probably single. A guy could just walk up to her and she'd probably be grateful." It was disgusting. I felt watched, assessed, categorized by strangers. Unsafe. My brothers were on their way, a familiar comfort. But then, he walked in. Chad. A self-proclaimed "Good Samaritan" challenge participant, selfie stick in hand, beaming that too-perfect smile. He wanted me to be his content. I refused, but he ignored it, flicking my nose with a condescending playfulness. "A pretty girl like you shouldn't be frowning." Rage exploded inside me. I stood, demandmg he leave. With a dramatic sigh, he walked away, still filming. My phone, my lifeline, flickered and died. Just as relief washed over me, the glass doors slid open again. Chad was back. And he had a huge bouquet of roses. A sickly-sweet smell. Dizziness. He was trying to drug me. I fought, screamed, and pepper-sprayed him. But the sedative was working. I collapsed, only to see him standing there again when the elevator doors chimed open. He'd circled back. Then the security guard, Tom, appeared. Chad, with chilling precision, recited my personal details, painting me as a dramatic girlfriend in a "lover's quarrel." Tom bought it. The world went dark as I fell, not to the floor, but into Chad's arms. He whispered in my ear: "Your colleague Mark sends his regards. He didn't appreciate you reporting him to HR."