Gemotions

He felt the prickle of sweat on his forehead. The anticipation felt crushing. He’d tried to avoid this event. He knew the speech would be a performance. He had worked so hard to create a facade.

The champagne felt lukewarm in his hand. He watched his father, beaming, and felt a twist in his gut. The speeches so far had all been glowing tributes. His own words felt like they would come out as ash.

He felt the weight of the expectations, heavy and oppressive. He wished he could disappear. He excused himself, needing to take a walk.