Gemotions

The gym felt like a pressure cooker. The rhythmic thud of the treadmills, the grunts of exertion, all amplified the frantic rhythm of Leo's heartbeat. He'd come here to sweat, to burn off the energy that coursed through him like an electric current. “Leo’s Lamentations: From Scribbles to Scandal” blared from the phone in his locker. He’d found the link during a work break and had been unable to shake the feeling of sick dread ever since.

He pushed himself harder, faster, his muscles screaming in protest. The image of the words, the private thoughts laid bare, seemed to follow him. He wanted to shatter the machines around him, to obliterate the source of his torment.

He showered, the hot water offering only momentary relief. He felt exposed, vulnerable, stripped of his carefully constructed armor.