Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office hummed, a shrill counterpoint to the quiet rage simmering in Amelia. She stared at the presentation on the screen, a carbon copy of her own. Months, sleepless nights, fueled by lukewarm coffee and sheer determination, had culminated in this. And now, this… copycat. Amelia’s jaw clenched, her knuckles white as she gripped the mouse.

She scrolled through the slides, each one a slap in the face. The same data points, the same insightful analysis, even the same goddamn font. A knot tightened in her stomach. She’d see him, that smug, overachieving bastard, crumble.

Amelia leaned back, feigning casual interest, as she walked towards his desk. She offered a strained smile, her eyes narrowed. "Impressive work, Mark," she said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "Quite… similar to what I’ve been working on."