Gemotions

A vein throbbed in Michael’s temple. The university’s "success stories" page, where his admissions essay now resided, felt like a public shaming. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture rough, almost violent. He’d confessed his deepest insecurities in that essay, revealed the cracks in his carefully crafted facade.

He grabbed his worn leather jacket and walked out of the house, the sun a blinding glare in the midday sky. The air felt heavy, suffocating. He didn't want to see anyone, talk to anyone. The essay, a monument to his teenage vulnerabilities, had been rendered public, a trophy for the university’s marketing team. He spat on the ground.

The sound of his feet hitting the pavement was the only thing that grounded him. He turned and kept moving, his steps increasing in pace. He had promised himself he would never be humiliated again. He would not be diminished.