Gemotions

He’d booked the appointment anonymously, desperate for help with his anxiety. He’d envisioned a sterile office, a stern-faced professional. Instead, he found himself facing Mark Jensen, the kid who used to steal his lunch money and call him "Four Eyes." He froze. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against his sternum.

Mark, now Dr. Jensen, gestured to a comfortable chair. “Take a seat, Liam. What brings you in?” His voice was even, professional, but the corners of his eyes crinkled in a familiar way.

Liam stammered, his carefully rehearsed words dissolving. The room seemed to tilt slightly. He couldn't believe it. The transformation was…disorienting. He felt like he'd stepped into a parallel universe.

He managed a weak, “You… you’re a… therapist?”

Mark nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Yep. Turns out, I'm good at listening.”