Gemotions

Mark fidgeted with the napkin on his lap, shredding it into tiny pieces. The room was a kaleidoscope of faces, all turned expectantly towards the stage. His throat constricted, making it difficult to breathe. The champagne he'd drunk tasted like ash.

He glanced at his dad, who looked so proud, so happy. The weight of expectation pressed down on him. He felt as though everyone could see the tremor in his hands. He wished he could teleport away.

He considered pretending he was ill. But the emcee was now gesturing for him to come up. He pushed himself to his feet, feeling his legs wobble slightly.