Gemotions

The phone call was short, curt. The voice on the other end, apologetic and evasive, provided little more than a veiled explanation for the sudden about-face. He ended the call without a goodbye, the silence that followed ringing hollow in the otherwise empty apartment.

He sat back in his chair, his hands clasped tightly together. The carefully curated seating plan, the centerpiece of the elaborate evening, lay abandoned on the desk. He hadn’t even bothered to decorate yet. The realization of how much effort he *hadn’t* invested, how much he *had* trusted the well-meaning crew of friends, filled him with a bitter sting.

He rose abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. He needed a distraction, something to bury this infuriating… *disappointment*. He grabbed his keys, the jingle of metal a cold, clinical sound.