Gemotions

He saw the email first thing Monday morning. A casual, impersonal message from HR, detailing the new salary bands. Mark stared at it, the blood draining from his face. How could they? He, with his years of experience, the late nights, the strategic planning, was making less than that…that kid.

His knuckles were white as he gripped his coffee mug, feeling the ceramic dig into his palm. He watched John from his cubicle, the younger man's face illuminated by his monitor, seemingly without a care in the world. John was laughing at something on his screen, oblivious to the simmering fury in the office.

“Morning, John,” Mark managed, his voice a low growl when they met at the water cooler. John, of course, just grinned. “How's it going, Mark?” Mark just grunted a response and walked back to his desk.