Gemotions

“I landed a huge account!” Chris had declared, his voice booming across the cafe. Emily, across from him, stared at the latte art, the swirling patterns mocking her. It was a well-rehearsed performance, this tale of success, but she knew the truth: Chris worked part-time at a grocery store, a fact they’d both carefully avoided acknowledging for years. The coffee seemed bitter, the air heavy.

She nodded vaguely, taking a careful sip. His stories were always so… vibrant, so full of manufactured enthusiasm. She felt it, though, less like jealousy, and more like a weary recognition of the effort it took. The barista called out a name. She realized she was late for her own, much less glamorous, shift.

“That’s great, Chris,” she said, her voice a monotone. She stood, grabbing her bag. "I've gotta run." She didn't bother to wait for a response. The door's closing was the last thing.