Gemotions

"And that's why, with my new promotion, I can finally afford the yacht!" Kevin beamed, gesturing expansively towards a framed photo of a ridiculously large boat. Mark’s hands began to shake. He had to suppress the urge to bolt from his friend’s apartment. The yacht. The apartment. The clothes. It was all a complete fabrication.

He remembered countless evenings spent commiserating with Kevin over late bills and job woes. Kevin, always the struggling musician. Always scraping by. He felt a sudden, inexplicable anger, a tightness in his chest.

“Kevin,” he said, his voice flat. “What exactly do you *do*?”