Gemotions

He surreptitiously downed the last of his wine, the alcohol doing little to soothe his mounting distress. His stomach churned. He watched the others, their easy laughter, their effortless camaraderie, and felt an even greater sense of isolation. Why couldn’t he be like them? Why couldn't he just relax?

The thought of standing up, of being the center of attention, sent a jolt of panic through him. He imagined his voice cracking, his hands shaking, his words dissolving into a meaningless jumble. He wanted to run, to vanish into the crowd and be forgotten.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. His father was smiling, a genuine, loving smile. He was being called to the stage. His insides began to tremble, and a bead of sweat rolled down his temple. This wasn’t just a speech; it felt like a trial.