Gemotions

The office Christmas party was in full swing, the air thick with forced cheer and the cloying smell of cheap perfume. Maya stood in a corner, nursing a glass of sparkling water, the celebratory atmosphere grating on her nerves. She kept catching her boss, Mr. Henderson, across the room. He was the one basking in the accolades for the project, her project. Her coding, her sleepless nights, her brilliant solutions, all under his name.

The music pulsed, a discordant rhythm echoing the turmoil within her. Every time she looked at her colleagues celebrating with Mr. Henderson, her chest felt tight, constricted. She excused herself, the merry-making had become unbearable.

Outside, the December air bit at her face. The cold felt good, cleansing. She started walking, not knowing where she was going, just needing to escape the suffocating weight of the truth.