Gemotions

The elevator doors chimed open, and Ben squeezed through, barely acknowledging the cheerful greeting from the receptionist. He navigated the sea of cubicles, the muted hum of conversation grating on his ears. He hated everyone's chirpy optimism. Today, more than ever.

His jaw clenched. Years of late nights and early mornings, all for this. The thought of some corporate behemoth swallowing the company whole, stripping it bare, filling his head with a bitter taste. He’d always prided himself on his work ethic, his loyalty. Now, it felt like a joke. They didn't care about loyalty. They cared about profits.

He reached his desk, his fingers fumbling with his mouse. The screen flickered to life, and he stared at the unread emails, each one a fresh wave of… annoyance. He hadn’t felt this agitated in years. He wasn’t going to smile at anything today.