Gemotions

The perfectly arranged tables, the smiling faces, the curated playlist – it all felt like an assault. Sarah's chest felt constricted, making it difficult to breathe. She hadn’t slept well for days leading up to this.

She watched her father accept congratulations, his posture relaxed, his smile genuine. The hypocrisy of it all was almost unbearable. He had a knack for public performance, for presenting a facade.

She was handed the microphone. Her fingers curled around the cold metal. "Well," she started, the word barely audible. The audience’s expectations weighed heavily on her. She forced a smile, but it felt stretched and unnatural.