Gemotions

He cleared his throat. "So, about the new strategy..." David began, the words catching a little in his throat. He forced a smile. Across the table, Michael leaned back in his chair, a picture of relaxed confidence. It was infuriating.

The meeting room felt stuffy, the air thick with unspoken victory. Michael's suggestions, previously dismissed, were now lauded as genius. David's own proposals, meticulously researched and presented, were met with cursory nods.

He found himself tapping his pen against the table, a nervous staccato that echoed the frantic rhythm of his own heartbeat. The audacity of it all. The blatant disregard for his contributions.