Gemotions

“Another round?” Mark, the junior colleague in question, asked with a wide grin. He had just bought everyone lunch with a new bonus.

George nodded, but the food sat like a lead weight in his stomach. He’d seen Mark's salary. He had been with the company for a decade longer, yet…

The clinking of glasses, the laughter of his colleagues, felt like a mocking soundtrack to his own internal turmoil. He felt a throbbing sensation in his temples, a dull ache that grew with each passing moment. He picked at his food, unable to taste it.

He excused himself, muttering something about a headache. The office felt like a cage. He needed to get away, to be alone, to process the information, to find a way to navigate this situation.

He wanted to scream.