Gemotions

The ballroom seemed overly bright, the music too loud. Michael adjusted his tie, feeling the fabric constrict his throat, mirroring the internal pressure he felt. He’d rehearsed this speech a dozen times, but now, facing the audience, the words seemed to have deserted him. His father’s career, the one he had just given a long, lauded service speech to, had always eclipsed his own life choices.

“It's a wonderful occasion," Michael stated, his voice flat, devoid of any genuine feeling. He looked at his father, who was seated at the head table, the object of everyone's attention. He thought of all the times he had yearned for his father's attention, the times he had failed to garner it.

He thought of all the things he had never been. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, but he swallowed the rising bile, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace.