Gemotions

The office was a sterile, brightly lit prison. The clatter of keyboards and the incessant ringing of phones did nothing to soothe his already frayed nerves. He felt a constant, low-level simmering resentment at everything and everyone around him. He hated the forced camaraderie, the phony smiles, the relentless pressure to be productive.

He watched from his cubicle as Ben, his supposed friend, prepared for the interview. Ben, always so annoyingly calm and composed. He felt a surge of… something unpleasant. He couldn't quite name it.

He pushed his chair back from his desk with a screech, the sound echoing in the silent office. The thought of competing with Ben, of potentially losing to him, made his stomach churn. The waiting felt unbearable.