Gemotions

He adjusted his tie, the knot digging into his neck. A sense of tight control settled over him as he surveyed the ballroom, where his father was accepting congratulations. The champagne flutes sparkled, reflecting the forced smiles of the well-wishers. He hated these charades. The pretense. The constant praise.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, his voice flat, devoid of warmth. He recounted a few anecdotes, carefully selected to highlight his father's perceived virtues. His jaw tightened as he mentioned his father's patience – something he had never experienced personally. He described the supposed joy his father found in his profession, while silently, he recalled the endless grievances that defined his youth.

He ended with a curt wish for "a long and happy retirement". He then excused himself, leaving his father to revel in the manufactured admiration.