Gemotions

A tightening in Marcus's chest was the first sign. He'd overheard the hushed conversation in the break room – the laughter, the boasting, the casual mention of a salary that eclipsed his own. His fists clenched as he returned to his desk, the keyboard feeling unusually cold beneath his fingertips.

He spent the afternoon researching industry standards. He printed out numerous articles detailing his contributions to the company, the successful projects he’d spearheaded. His normally neat workspace now resembled the scene of a deliberate act.

Later, he stood, ramrod straight, outside his boss's office. A brief knock, and he strode in, papers clutched, a steely gaze fixed on his superior's face. "I need to talk about my current position."