Gemotions

"Great," Michael muttered, the word a flat, lifeless sound. The team lunch was a disaster. He kept stabbing at his salad, watching the small, pale leaves slowly disintegrate beneath his fork. The constant chatter about the new project’s potential felt irritating, like a discordant song. Public Relations, in this new office, was a constant barrage of smiles and forced optimism.

He felt a familiar weight settle in his chest. His gaze drifted to the window, the sunlight reflecting off the glass like a barrier. He didn't say a word to anyone. They’d already noticed how little he was talking.