Brew Books

Chapter 42

Sylvie sighs. 'I resent that I have to teach every white boy about the frameworks of the world that they've never noticed because they're too busy sitting at the top.'

'But I'm not at the top!' Harper says. 'I work in a bar, my dad's a plumber, I grew up in a council flat! I have never been at the top!'

'Let's like, concentrate on the femininity thing,' Kitty says. She plays with the rings on her fingers as she talks. 'Toxic femininity is a real thing, but it's like, pretty understandable if you don't really know about it, Harper.'

'Understandable,' Sylvie scoffs.

'So toxic femininity,' Kitty continues, 'is the idea that women have to be like nurturing, kind, caring, beautiful, all that.'

'Sexy but not slutty,' Charlotte says.

'Not too loud or too smart or too successful,' Sylvie says.

'A good girlfriend, or a good mother,' I say quietly.

Kitty glances over at me. I look down.

'Luckily we have feminism and women don't submit to these ideals so much anymore, right?' Kitty pipes up again, this time staring straight at me.

'Yes we live in a perfect feminist utopia,' Sylvie says mockingly.

'Like, yeah,' Kitty says, 'there are ingrained prejudices about women, but we accept women with all different traits, now, mostly. Well, we should, anyway. Right?'

'We're getting there,' Charlotte admits.

'Toxic femininity is harmful to women because it's reductive and puts women into boxes. Mother, virgin, whore,' as she says them, she counts on her fingers. Her taloned nails are enchanting. 'But women are more than those things.'

'Okay, fine,' Harper says. 'But why is it that toxic femininity is all that, and then toxic masculinity is such a bad thing?'

'Don't you think it's a bad thing that women have to be beautiful and desired or they're not real women?' Sylvie says.

'I don't think that,' Harper says. 'I'm a born again feminist, remember?'

'Well done for being a semi-decent human being, Harper,' Will says.

'Plenty of women live with that ingrained ideology,' Sylvie says. 'And it's debasing.'

'Okay, well what about masculinity?' Harper says. 'Why is it that being a man is wrong?'

'That's a fundamental misunderstanding of the term toxic masculinity,' Sylvie says. 'Kitty, help me out, I need another drink.'

Sylvie stands up and walks to the bar. Once she's behind the bar she calls out, 'anyone else want anything?'

I am still nursing my gin, so I don't answer.

'Toxic masculinity is harmful to men, Harper,' Will says.

'Exactly!' Kitty says. 'In fact, that's the issue. The reason you don't know anything about toxic femininity is because it doesn't harm you. It doesn't harm you at all that women base their value and worth on what men think of them, and that's because it's actually helpful to you! But toxic masculinity is harmful to both men and women.'

Kitty's worked herself up now. 'You know what, Sylv,' she says. 'Can I have a rum?'

'So,' Sylvie says, looking killer as she saunters back to our table, two glasses in hand. 'Toxic masculinity is not the idea that being a man is bad. It's the harmful, ingrained ideas about what a man should be.'

'Yeah, and,' Kitty says, taking a swig of rum, 'we live in this patriarchal society that values one type of man. A strong, successful man who provides for his family. A man who is always right. A man who stays in control. A man who never shows emotion, or weakness. A man who gets what he wants. A boss. A dominant man.'

'And that's toxic,' Sylvie says. 'Because we know that not everyone can be, or wants to be, that hyper masculine, strong, emotionless man.'

'Exactly,' Will says.

'But a lot of men feel like if they can't be powerful, then they should beat their wives or girlfriends, and then maybe they'll be powerful,' Kitty says. 'Like, if they can't be a CEO, then at least they can have dominance over women.'

Harper shifts uncomfortably.

'So toxic masculinity, this idea that men have to be successful and powerful, is harmful to men who don't fit in such a narrow framework, and it's also harmful to women, because they end up being the punching bags for men's failures. And in a man's world, women can never achieve equality. Women always come out worse.'

'Okay, so, this goes back to what I was saying last week. Why is it called feminism?' Harper says. 'Because men have problems too, right? Why isn't it just called equalism? Because, men's suicide rates are higher! Why isn't anyone talking about that?'

'I'm getting us an uber,' Ed says. His chair grates as he stands up, and he paces out of the bar and out onto the street.

'Harper,' Kitty warns.

Harper rolls his eyes. 'Fine, I'll shut up.'

'Women still commit suicide,' I say quietly, but no one seems to have heard me. There's unrest in the group now, and even Sylvie and Kitty don't seem to want to continue the conversation.

Kitty goes to join Ed out on the street, while the rest of us finish our drinks. I try to catch Harper's eye, but he's still ignoring me. Now I'm frustrated.

'It's lucky we've got Sylvie and Kitty to school us on everything,' Will says lightly, slinging an arm around Harper's shoulder. 'We'd be lost without them. You're gonna be such a woke bae, Harper.'

Harper grumbles and throws Will's arm off. 'I'm sorry I said that thing about suicide,' he says, his eyes on the floor. My stomach flips, because I think he's saying it to me. But he doesn't look up at me, and then he follows Kitty up the stairs to the street.

'Jane,' Charlotte says. 'You okay?'

'Yeah,' I say, forcing a smile.

In the taxi I stay silent. The tension in the group is weird, and I am extra conscious of Harper sitting across from me, but refusing to meet my gaze. I clutch onto my phone, feeling completely alone even though I'm surrounded by my friends. Once we finally get into the club I'm thinking that I need another few drinks to loosen up, because at the moment I just feel miserable, uncomfortable and alone.

But before we go to the bar Sylvie says, 'I need to go to the loo. Jane, you coming?'

I almost ask "me?" because I'm so surprised to actually feel included in something as simple as going to the bathroom. I follow Sylvie and Charlotte, secretly so pleased they want me to accompany them.

The line for the toilet is long, so when a cubicle becomes free we do what most drunk girls do and go in together to share it. As I'm sitting on the toilet, Charlotte texts on her phone, while Sylvie rummages in her clutch and pulls out her debit card, a five pound note, and a little baggie of white powder.

I stare at Sylvie. 'What is that?'

'Want some?' she replies, with a grin.

• Author's Note •

Hellooooo shit's about to go down.

also, this is important:

The following chapters have references to drug use. I in no way condone the use of illicit drugs. This story aims to reflect the modern culture of young people living in London, and that reality includes its fair share of unhealthy and illegal habits, including dangerous levels of drinking and drug use.

This is not a teen fic book, and although I believe a lot of teen readers are mature enough to deal with adult issues, if you find the drug references offensive or disturbing then you might want to find a novel more suitable to your age range.

Okay and with that out of the way, feel free to go onto the next chapter!

elle xx