Gemotions

He felt his pulse hammering against his ribs, a frantic rhythm that threatened to break free. Liam stared at the business card. "Marcus Thorne, Head of Strategy, Global Innovations." He'd been sure it was a joke at first, a misguided prank by a friend who loved to needle him. But the card felt heavy, real, and he'd just seen Marcus walk into the board room with the CEO.

His palms were slick with sweat. He fumbled with the card, nearly dropping it. Marcus had always portrayed himself as a struggling artist, a starving painter barely making ends meet. He'd even borrowed money from him last month! Liam felt his stomach churn, a cold wave washing over him.

He needed to get out of the meeting. He needed to be alone. He felt a sudden, desperate urge to flee the building, to disappear, to re-evaluate everything he thought he knew. The room felt suddenly too small, the air too thin.