Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office seemed to hum a mocking tune. Sarah stared at the spreadsheet, the numbers blurring, refusing to cooperate. Her stomach churned with a persistent unease she couldn’t quite place, a knot forming in her chest with each passing minute.

She’d polished her presentation, practiced her responses, and stayed late every night for the past month. All for this, the Senior Project Manager position.

Mark, her colleague, had barely lifted a finger. He breezed in, cracked jokes, and somehow, always seemed to have the upper hand. He sauntered past her desk, a smug grin plastered across his face, and offered a casual, "Good luck, Sarah!" The air in her cubicle thickened.

She slammed the laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in the otherwise quiet office. "Good luck," she muttered under her breath, a bitter taste coating her tongue.