Gemotions

He was at a book signing, forced to smile and shake hands. He wanted to scream. The author, a woman with unnervingly bright eyes, was recounting anecdotes he didn't remember sharing. He was trapped in a gilded cage of smiles and forced pleasantries. His muscles felt tight, and his jaw ached.

The constant questions, the probing looks from the audience, were exhausting. He felt as if he were being slowly dissected, his private life the subject of public entertainment. He forced himself to take shallow breaths, the air thick with unspoken assumptions and unwanted intimacy.

He longed for the solitude of his home, for the simple comfort of being unknown. He imagined shutting out the world, barricading himself in silence and darkness. The fake smile was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain.