The expression on her face held loathing.
Every line she sang was a derision, something said to women that would not be said to a man, the sort of veiled misogyny that had been featured on the media and podcasts recently. It was exactly what she had said, a call to arms, that women would rally behind, break up to, and work out with playing loudly in their ears. She had her finger on the pulse of a sentiment very relevant for the time, Vice thought, and it had the potential to be a hit, if he and Victor managed to match the song and lyrics to the right sound and image.
She finished on a harsh note, and picked up her water, taking a mouthful. “Does that help?” She asked, quietly into the silence that sat between them in the space left by that note.
“Yes,” Victor started out of his
