Gemotions

The interview was a joke. Amelia, with her carefully curated "I'm approachable but efficient" look, batted her eyelashes at the hiring manager. He ate it up, of course. All smiles and nods. I, on the other hand, had spent the last two weeks researching the company inside and out, crafting thoughtful answers, and yet, I just got a polite, "We'll be in touch."

The walk back to the cafe was torture. Each step felt heavier than the last. The sun seemed determined to mock me, shining directly into my eyes as I fought back the urge to scream. I saw Amelia, already halfway through a congratulatory iced latte, waving me over. I considered just turning around.

"So," she began, the picture of casual confidence, "How do you think it went?" Her voice was sickeningly sweet. I stared at the foam on her drink, wishing it were something… less palatable.

I managed a tight-lipped, "Fine." The lie hung thick in the air.