Gemotions

He stared at the decorative banners that declared his father's "Happily Ever After." The irony was almost unbearable. He could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, a frantic rhythm against the orchestrated happiness. He hated this.

His father’s booming laugh sliced through the air, and he flinched. He remembered all the things his father had told him about success, about ambition, about following the rules. He looked at his own life, a life that had never fit the mold.

He approached the podium, his legs heavy, his steps reluctant. He glanced at the smiling faces in the crowd. The pressure was building. He could feel it, a physical weight pushing down on him.

"Well," he began, his voice raspy, "congratulations, I guess." He hated the weak tone of his voice. He felt a flicker of defiance, a sudden urge to just walk away. The urge almost overwhelmed him.