Gemotions

The party was a disaster. Or, maybe, it was just the aftermath of the announcement. David stood on the edge of the deck, watching the other guests laugh and mingle, the easy chatter and upbeat music a relentless assault on his ears. He clutched a glass of whiskey, the ice clinking loudly with every agitated movement.

He saw Michael across the room, surrounded by well-wishers. He felt a sharp pang of… something. He swallowed, the whiskey burning as it went down.

He walked over, forcing a smile that felt brittle, like it might shatter at any moment. "So," he said, his voice tight, "congratulations on the big move. You must be thrilled to be leaving.”