Gemotions

The email sat in Leo’s inbox, a stark white rectangle against the usual deluge. He’d refreshed it a dozen times, each click a tiny act of self-denial. Now, the words swam before his eyes: "Regrettably, there has been an error…" His stomach churned. He hadn't told anyone about the scholarship, not really. Just a vague mention to his parents, a hopeful glint in his voice. He imagined their faces now, their quiet pride, and the crushing weight of their expectations. He felt a profound desire to disappear, to dissolve into the worn fabric of his dorm room chair.

He walked to the university's financial aid office, a tight knot in his chest. The fluorescent lights seemed to hum, a constant, accusing presence. He stammered through the explanation to the secretary, his voice barely a whisper. The woman’s expression remained neutral, professional. He wanted the floor to open and swallow him whole.