Gemotions

The weight room smelled of sweat and iron. Liam attacked the bench press, the rhythmic grunt a release. His muscles burned, a welcome distraction from the agitation that constantly gnawed at him. The argument. The basketball game. It played on repeat in his mind.

He knew he should let it go. Alex was his best friend. But the sting of Alex’s interpretation, the dismissive laughter, had left a raw wound. Each rep was a furious attempt to dispel the feeling.

He slammed the weights back onto the rack, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He wiped the sweat from his brow, his jaw tight. He wouldn't let it consume him. But the anger lingered, a phantom limb that refused to disappear.