Gemotions

The band’s music grated on Arthur's nerves. He leaned against a wall, arms crossed, observing the scene. His parents, bathed in the flattering glow of the spotlight, looked like perfect specimens of contentment, a stark contrast to his own internal turmoil.

He felt the unwelcome weight of expectation. His mother's repeated requests and smiles had worn him down, and now he was expected to stand in front of everyone and proclaim happiness. He'd rather be anywhere else.

When his name was called, he took a deep, shaky breath and went to the podium. He kept his speech short and impersonal, as if the words themselves were a foreign language he barely understood.