Gemotions

The phone buzzed, and a notification appeared: "Michael Jones wants to be your friend." The name, a brand of disdain, had been imprinted on Daniel's mind since childhood. He let out a harsh, involuntary laugh, the sound grating on his ears. He was alone in his office.

He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight. The room’s temperature suddenly felt extreme, and he loosened his tie. He recalled the countless times he had been the target of Michael’s cruel jokes and physical taunts. The memory of a bloody nose still lingered.

He spent the next hour working, unable to focus. The request was a shadow over everything, a persistent reminder of the past. He eventually shut down his computer, the weight of the day pressing down on him.