Gemotions

"Ready to go, buddy?" Mark yelled as he bounded down the stairs, practically bouncing with excitement. Tonight was the premiere of Leo's play, the one he'd spent months writing and rehearsing. Mark had been the first to read every draft, offering feedback and encouragement. He was bursting with excitement to see the culmination of Leo’s dedication. He envisioned a triumphant celebration afterwards, drinks, laughter, and endless praise for his friend.

He arrived at the theatre, and the air crackled with excitement. But when he approached Leo before the play, the friend looked extremely nervous and hesitant. "Hey, Mark," he said, his voice unusually quiet. "Listen, there’s something I need to tell you. I... I wasn't the playwright." The play was written by someone else, and Leo was merely the assistant. Mark felt a chill creep up his spine.