Gemotions

The car keys clattered onto the console with a metallic ring. Michael's knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. He felt a burning sensation in his chest, a tight knot of frustration. Just hours ago, David had been regaling him with tales of his thrilling career as a "financial analyst," explaining complex market fluctuations that Michael barely understood. Now, he'd discovered David was a… a *bank teller*?

He slammed the car door shut, the sound echoing in the empty parking garage. He couldn't believe it. The long dinners, the expensive bottles of wine, the endless conversations about David's "strategic insights" – all a carefully constructed lie. Michael felt a wave of nausea wash over him.