Humiliation was different.
Pain hurt the body.
Humiliation followed you home.
After Mia went to bed, Evan sat alone at the kitchen table.
His prosthetic rested against the chair.
The house was quiet.
Then his phone buzzed.
A message from a friend appeared.
Man, you're trending. Check this.
Evan opened the link.
The video began.
It was shaky, but clear enough.
The flashing lights.
The officer.
The trike.
The stumble.
The laughter.
Evan watched it once.
Then again.
The comments below the video were already multiplying.
Some people defended him.
Others didn't.
Shouldn't be riding if he can't stand.
Fake sympathy.
Another biker breaking the law.
Then he saw the comment that made his chest tighten.
So that's how they pretend.
Evan closed the app.
His phone buzzed again.
This time it was the garage where he worked part-time.
Hey, sorry, man. One of the regulars canceled his appointment. Said he didn't know you were "that guy." I'll try to fix it.
Evan stared at the screen.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
He rubbed the place where his prosthetic met his skin.
The socket was always uncomfortable when he was stressed.
Tonight, it felt like a cage.
Across town, Officer Mark Dalton was watching the same video.
He sat at his kitchen table with a cup of untouched coffee.
A colleague had sent it to him with a joke.
You made the internet.
Dalton had watched it three times.
The first time as an officer.
The second time as a critic.
The third time as a man who didn't like what he saw.
He told himself he had done his job.
The biker had been difficult.
The motorcycle had been noisy.