Gemotions

The waiting room was filled with the forced cheeriness of pre-interview pleasantries. John watched, with a folded-arm stoicism, as his friend, Mark, charmed the receptionist with a barrage of jokes. He felt a knot tighten in his stomach. They were both perfect for the role, but in different ways. John had the experience. Mark had the personality.

The secretary called Mark's name, and John stayed put, letting them pass. He watched the door close behind Mark, a sudden wave of irritation washing over him. He sank lower in his chair, trying to appear unconcerned. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, a frantic rhythm against his ribcage.

The minutes ticked by slowly. Each second a monument to the possibility that he was less worthy.