Gemotions

The cloying scent of lilies and perfume filled the air. He stood near the buffet table, picking at a small, dry chicken skewer. He avoided the gaze of relatives and family friends, a subtle shift of his body language, a deliberate avoidance of interaction. The polite inquiries were starting to grate on his nerves.

He watched his father, a man who had never been demonstrative, accept congratulations with a stiff nod. He had a speech to give. He hadn't even started thinking about it, and wasn't going to start now.

He took a large bite of the skewer. He’d say something. Whatever. It was just a stupid party. He’d probably offend everyone, but that was just fine by him. He was ready to let his frustration out.