Gemotions

The invitation was crisp, the calligraphy impeccable. "Cocktails and Canapés to Celebrate Amelia's Promotion." Promotion? Amelia, who’d been “project managing” since they graduated, supposedly for a huge tech firm. I poured myself another glass of wine, the chilled liquid a small, insufficient comfort against the sudden heat prickling my skin. A sharp laugh escaped my lips. Amelia, who couldn't even manage a spreadsheet without assistance.

Her apartment shimmered, all polished surfaces and curated art. I noticed the price tags, still barely visible, on many of the items. I walked up to her, a smile plastered on my face that felt taut and unnatural. "Congratulations, Amelia!" I chirped, raising my glass. "Project manager of *what*, exactly?"

Amelia stammered, her meticulously applied lipstick seeming to bleed slightly. "Oh, you know..." She waved a dismissive hand. I kept the smile fixed, my gaze unwavering. The longer she stuttered, the more delightful the evening became.