Gemotions

A bead of perspiration trickled down Maya's temple, tracing a path through the careful application of her makeup. The buffet line stretched before her, a river of forced cheer and strained conversations. She avoided eye contact, focusing on the silver chafing dishes. Her stomach churned. This was a nightmare.

Her father, usually stoic and reserved, clapped her on the back a little too heartily as he passed, a grin plastered on his face. He'd always been so proud of her, and she hated the thought of disappointing him. But giving a speech? In front of everyone?

She knew this was important to him. He'd worked hard his whole life. She just wished she could disappear. She pretended to study the salads, but her mind was racing, replaying the words she'd prepared, over and over, until they seemed meaningless.