Gemotions

The hall was too warm, and the music, a generic collection of easy-listening tunes, grated on his nerves. He watched the waiters weave through the crowd, balancing trays of canapés. His father kept catching his eye, his expression expectant. He offered a polite smile in return.

He’d prepared a speech, of course. His sister had practically begged him. He flipped through the pages, the words losing their meaning. He felt a profound lack of interest in the whole affair.

"Well," he began, his voice flat. He spoke about his father's career, the milestones, the accomplishments. He finished quickly, eager to escape the room. The clapping seemed to fade away. He excused himself, heading towards the open bar.