Gemotions

The email inbox had become a battleground. Each new RSVP, a potential casualty in this unspoken war of birthday parties. Michael chewed on his thumbnail, a habit he'd thought he'd broken years ago. He had envisioned a relaxed pub night.

Now, he was obsessively checking guest lists, comparing numbers, calculating probabilities. The air in his office felt thick, stifling. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple.

He rubbed his eyes, the pressure behind them growing. “Come on, come on,” he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. He knew this feeling, the sickening churn in his gut. The competitive edge had always been present, but this? This felt different.