Gemotions

The interview was a disaster. Clara knew it the moment she stumbled over her own feet trying to sit down. The chair scraped across the polished floor, a sound that echoed in the suddenly silent room. Across the table, Liam, her best friend since kindergarten, sat with a composed smile, his tie perfectly knotted. He’d probably aced it.

Her cheeks burned. She found herself fiddling with the hem of her blazer, a nervous habit she thought she’d broken years ago. The air felt thick, difficult to breathe. Each question felt like a personal attack, revealing all her inadequacies.

“Well, thank you both for coming in,” the interviewer said, her voice a smooth, dismissive tone. Clara could feel the blood drain from her face as she forced a tight smile, the muscles in her face aching with the effort. She just wanted to disappear.