Gemotions

“Well, you know I’m going for this,” Chloe said, her voice a little too high, a bit breathy. She chewed on her thumbnail as she spoke, a habit she’d picked up in middle school, when Sarah, her childhood friend, had told her it was “cute.” Now, as she waited outside the office door, the habit felt more like a cage.

Sarah, a picture of effortless chic in her tailored suit, stood beside her, radiating a quiet confidence. Chloe, on the other hand, felt a cold knot tighten in her chest. She had meticulously researched the company, practiced her interview answers, but her confidence was built on shaky ground. It always needed Sarah’s approval to hold.

The door swung open, and a man called out “Chloe, you're next.” Her heart leaped into her throat, and she felt a sudden urge to flee. She looked to Sarah, searching for some kind of affirmation, some silent acknowledgment that she was doing well. But Sarah merely smiled, a polite, impersonal smile.

“Good luck," Sarah said. Chloe felt a shiver of disappointment. Without Sarah's support, she felt like she was wading in quicksand.