Gemotions

A wave of… something… washed over me as the words left Mr. Henderson’s lips. "Both you and Emily are being considered for the head of marketing role." My ears rang. The plush carpet under my feet seemed to tilt precariously.

My carefully crafted presentation, the hours spent honing my pitch, the strategic charts – all of it suddenly felt… thin. Insubstantial. I blinked, trying to regain purchase on reality, but the room spun gently.

I watched Emily across the mahogany table, her usual composed expression giving way to a flicker of surprise. Then, her smile, bright and practiced, bloomed. I wanted to say something, anything, but the air felt thick, heavy, pressing against my lungs.

My gaze drifted to the framed diplomas on the wall, the awards, the accolades. Suddenly, they all felt like decorations on a flimsy facade. I was drowning.