Gemotions

The awards ceremony. The flashing cameras. The accolades. "Chef Antoine’s Secret Chocolate Cake," they announced. It was his recipe, the one he had confided to a friend years ago. His gut twisted into a hard knot, a painful reminder of his forgotten efforts.

He was present in the room, but the joy of the night’s celebration was replaced by a dull ache, a feeling of inadequacy. His palms began to sweat, and he pulled at the collar of his shirt. He wished he could just vanish.

He forced himself to clap, a hollow, perfunctory sound. The smile he wore felt stiff, unnatural, a mask concealing his turmoil. His eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape route, any way to remove himself from this scene.