Gemotions

Eliza chewed on her lip, a habit she’d picked up in moments of stress, the skin around her nails already red and raw. The air in the conference room seemed thick, suffocating. She sat rigid, back stiff against the uncomfortable chair, listening to the presentation. Her gaze drifted out the window, focusing on a distant building, anything to avoid eye contact with her colleagues.

It was a hollow echo in her mind, like a bad pop song. She'd put in the years, the effort, the relentless grind. Yet, here was Liam, fresh out of college, already surpassing her in pay. The words "market value" and "negotiation power" had bounced around the office like confetti at a party she wasn’t invited to.

Her jaw ached. She excused herself early, muttering something about a headache, and fled. Outside, the city felt oppressive, the sounds of traffic grating on her nerves. She walked, head down, the soles of her shoes pounding the pavement, trying to outrun the knot of resentment twisting in her gut.