Gemotions

The coffee shop felt too bright, too cheerful. Everything about the scene, the barista’s chipper greeting, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, grated on Emily’s nerves. Across the small table, Chloe was beaming, her eyes sparkling with a manufactured glow. California, she’d said, and the opportunity of a lifetime.

Emily stirred her lukewarm latte with unnecessary vigor. The spoon scraped against the ceramic cup, a deliberate counterpoint to Chloe's enthusiasm. She barely met her friend's gaze.

"That's… nice," she managed, her voice barely a whisper. The words felt like pebbles in her mouth. She focused on the cracks in the table’s surface, anything to avoid the infectious joy that radiated from the other side.