Gemotions

A cold sweat slicked down Daniel's back. He’d meticulously planned this trip, timing everything to the minute. The presentation was key. Years of work, all culminating in this pitch. The airline’s automated voice droned on, a detached symphony of technical difficulties. He checked his watch again, the silver of the band glinting in the harsh light. He felt a tremor in his hands.

He paced the limited space near the gate, his polished shoes clicking on the tile. Each step was a frustrated stomp. His carefully constructed facade of confidence felt brittle, about to crack. He imagined the faces of the investors, their fleeting glances. Each missed opportunity felt like a personal failure.

Daniel ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair. He could feel the blood rushing to his face, making his cheeks burn. He needed to get a grip. He stopped walking and leaned against the wall, trying to take slow, steady breaths. He needed to be calm, composed, when the news came.