Gemotions

The new guy, Ben, had a habit of interrupting. Every time Michael tried to explain a complex procedure, Ben would jump in, finishing his sentences, offering "improvements." Michael found himself clenching his jaw, his knuckles turning white as he demonstrated the system.

The office felt smaller, more crowded. Every shared glance, every whispered conversation between Ben and his coworkers felt like a conspiracy. The familiar scent of coffee in the morning now irritated him; he could practically taste the bitterness.

He started avoiding the break room, preferring to eat lunch alone at his desk. He found himself cataloging Ben's mistakes, meticulously detailing them in a private document, a secret collection of his perceived inadequacies.