Gemotions

The notification buzzed on his phone, a tiny digital jab in the ribs. He knew, before he even opened it, what it would say. A hollow feeling spread through him as he read the words, the polite formality of the rejection dripping with a coldness he couldn't ignore. He tossed the phone on his bed.

He stared at the ceiling, trying to breathe, but his chest felt constricted. His future, which had seemed so carefully constructed, was crumbling. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture almost violent. He’d poured his heart into that application, into those essays, and for what?

He felt a deep sense of betrayal. The world seemed less welcoming, less bright. The air was heavier. The silence of the room was a deafening weight.