Gemotions

He slammed the door, the sound echoing in the sterile white hallway. Years. Years he'd invested in this algorithm, this breakthrough. Now, seeing Sarah's smug face on the Zoom call, and the presentation mirroring his own, he felt a surge of pure, raw resentment. It was a betrayal, a brutal theft.

He grabbed his water bottle, squeezing it so hard his knuckles turned white. Each word she uttered, each cheerful explanation, was a fresh jab. His hands itched; he wanted to tear the screen off his desk.

He paced his apartment, the tiny space suddenly feeling too small, the walls closing in. The silence was deafening, a thick, suffocating blanket. He could feel his face burning; rage was an inferno.