Gemotions

The coffee cup shook in Maya's hand, sloshing lukewarm liquid over the rim. She carefully set it down on the chipped conference table, trying to appear composed. Across from her, Mark, the head of the marketing team, was praising the competitor's new campaign. A campaign that, down to the granular details of the chosen font, mimicked her own.

Her stomach churned, a cold knot forming in her gut. She’d spent months on this project, working late nights and weekends. Every idea, every concept, every image had been meticulously planned.

“It's… impressive,” she managed, her voice tight. The fluorescent lights overhead seemed to hum, amplifying the tension in the room. She felt a heat rising in her chest. She needed to leave. Now.