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Utopian Land

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Christer Björkman wasn't taking it well. Of course he wasn't. People had been seriously hurt and even killed at his contest. Of course he blamed himself. It wasn't his fault, but he felt guilty all the same. Petra was worried about him.
"Christer?" Petra asked, "Are you ok?"
"I... I'm... I'm fine it's just," Christer sighed, "Oh god Petra, it's all my fault! If I hadn't decided to continue this stupid contest, if I just hadn't-"
"Now look here Christer," Petra interrupted him, "What happened here today wasn't your fault. This was barely even your decision. You heard what the SVT said, they wanted this show to happen no matter what. Even if you hadn't wanted to do it, SVT would have just brought in someone else to do it. You know how they are."
But Björkman wasn't convinced. Standing here, in the arena were it had all happened, wasn't going to help him though. It was getting rather late now, and so the organisers of Melfest started trying to get people to leave. After all, this was still officially a crime scene, even though the Swedish police were being very slow to get the work done.
With the semi final now over, the entrants and audience of Melodifestivalen went home. Back to reality, back to their uncertain country. It wasn't just about the tourists shot at Melodifestivalen. Because of Sweden, America's secrets were out in the open. But even worse that that, because of Sweden, America had been attacked. And America wouldn't just take that lying down. America couldn't take that lying down. Måns and Petra knew that America would make Sweden pay the price. There would be an invasion, or a war, or perhaps something even worse.
"Worse than war?" Måns had said to Petra, "No, there's nothing worse than that."
"Oh believe me," Petra said, "There is."
"Hmm? What then?"
Occupation. That one word sent fear into the hearts of everyone in Sweden. It had only been a few hours since the attacks and the shooting and America had already threatened war against the tiny Scandinavian nation. It hadn't even been a day and already the American government were talking about 'smashing Sweden into the ground'. Revenge, retaliation, retribution. Words that filled the American media.
The Swedes knew that they couldn't possibly win a war against America, especially not with the whole world against them. The American president had vowed to completely destroy Sweden, and it seemed to the entire world that he wanted to go through with it. The German government had tried to talk America out of it, tried to calm everything down, but there was nothing they could do. America said that if Germany intervened, then America would attack them too.
"If- if you attack this country-" the Swedish president had said, "Then we will leak all of the documents that we have found from America."
This only served to anger the Americans more. It was as if the Swedish government were digging a huge hole, and with every statement, every action, it was getting deeper and deeper. Every attempt by the Swedes to solve the crisis just made everything even worse.
The show must go on, but continuing with the Melodifestivalen semi final after everything that had happened had been a huge mistake from the Swedes. The shooting there was headline news all across America, as well as the attacks by 'Swedes against America'.
'Callous Sweden parties at music contest after American attack' read one news headline. A more sensational tabloid wrote in huge letters 'Swedes dance on the graves of Americans' and underneath that there were pictures of Melodifestivalen.
'Sweden's sick music death party' yelled another American tabloid.
Petra scrolled down, looking at all of the headlines, shocked. Suddenly, her phone rang. Her ringtone, ABBA - Waterloo. She answered it and heard a voice on the other end, shouting.
"How dare you! How dare you!" yelled a voice she didn't recognise.
"Um, hello?" Petra said, "Who is this?"
"A proud AMERICAN citizen!" the voice yelled, "You're digusting! Your whole country is disgusting!"
"Look... I'm... I'm really sorry about what happened, truly I am. How... how did you get this number?"
"Shut up! You're not sorry! You make me sick!"
It only took a quick google search of her name for her to realise what had happened. Petra's phone number had been leaked to the American press. Petra sighed. She'd have to go and get that number changed in the morning.