Gemotions

He avoided eye contact with everyone. The chatter, the laughter, felt like an assault on his senses. He kept to the periphery of the room, sipping water, his glass a barrier. He felt exposed, vulnerable.

The emcee announced his name, and a wave of heat washed over him. His throat closed up. He found himself mechanically walking to the podium. The lights, the expectant faces, were a wall.

He fumbled with the microphone, his hands clumsy. He saw his father's encouraging smile, but it offered little comfort. He could barely breathe.