Gemotions

The microphone felt heavy in Elias’s hand, a cold metal extension of the churning in his stomach. He hadn't expected the invitation, hadn't planned for it. Now, the polished ballroom reflected his anxious face back at him. He fidgeted, adjusting his tie again, even though it was perfectly straight.

He glanced at his father, beaming from his seat near the front. The man looked so… complete. Secure. He wondered if his father ever felt like this, like a half-built house in a hurricane. Elias swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making the words feel thick and clumsy.

His carefully rehearsed speech, the one he'd crafted over the past week, evaporated. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks. He could feel everyone watching. This felt impossible.