Gemotions

Michael practically skipped down the street, his briefcase swinging jauntily. Today was the day he finally told his parents about his promotion. He'd been bursting to tell them, practically itching with excitement since the news came through. He'd imagined the look on their faces, the pride in their eyes. He'd spent the entire week crafting the perfect narrative: the climb up the corporate ladder, the challenging projects, the demanding boss who finally recognized his brilliance.

He arrived at his friend David's apartment, the scent of freshly baked bread wafting from the open window. David, his friend, his colleague, the one who always knew how to make him laugh, was on the balcony. "David!" Michael bellowed, his voice laced with happiness.

David turned, his face etched with something Michael couldn't quite decipher. "Hey, Mike," he said, his voice flat. "Come inside." Michael followed, his own mood deflating slightly.

"You won't believe it!" Michael began, but David held up a hand. "Actually, Mike, there's something you need to know." The bread suddenly smelled less appetizing.