Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash. Amelia swirled the lukewarm liquid in her mug, the ceramic cold against her palm. She’d spent three years on this proposal, countless sleepless nights poring over data, crafting the perfect pitch. And now? David, her supposed competitor, was presenting the *exact* same thing. A carbon copy. Her shoulders slumped.

She focused on the subtle tremor in her hands. The room’s air conditioning felt inadequate, chilling her to the bone. David’s smug smile, the way he effortlessly commanded the room, fueled a burning sensation in her chest. A choked feeling. She hated that she hadn't pushed harder.

Later, she sat in her car, the engine idling. She’d meticulously planned her career, every step, every presentation. This felt like a cruel joke. The meticulously crafted vision board she kept in her office now felt like a taunt.