Gemotions

He walked to the podium, trying to project an air of confidence he certainly didn’t feel. The room was a blur of faces, all watching him, waiting. He adjusted his tie, the knot suddenly feeling too tight. He had rehearsed, but all the words had disappeared.

His carefully crafted jokes fell flat, met with polite but strained laughter. He felt the blood rush to his face, making him burn with a feeling of deep mortification. He could barely meet anyone’s gaze, afraid of seeing their pity.

He finished the speech as quickly as he could, his voice a barely audible whisper. He sat down, the feeling of crushing inadequacy making his stomach churn. He'd ruined it. He'd failed.