Gemotions

"So, the CEO," Mark was saying, his voice booming with fake confidence, "said to me…" I was sitting opposite him in the crowded bar, nursing a lukewarm beer. I knew Mark's "CEO" was his older brother, who ran a failing plumbing company. The whole performance was grating. I felt a growing tightness in my chest.

The bar was filled with the clinking of glasses and the sound of boisterous laughter. Mark’s words, each one a calculated lie, seemed to slice through the din.

I took a long swallow of my beer, the bitterness doing little to cut through the rising anger. I met his gaze, my expression carefully neutral. I felt like the whole world was a stage and he was playing a role I couldn't stand to watch. I wanted to just get up and leave, but the thought of the confrontation felt even worse.