Gemotions

The invitation sat on the kitchen counter, a bright pink square mocking his muted existence. Liam traced the glossy surface with a fingertip, the party favors and bouncy castles already a distant, unwelcome hum in his mind. Sarah's party. Today. It felt like an obligation, a performance he wasn't sure he could pull off. He’d planned to simply stay indoors, to let the weight of the day settle.

He dragged himself into the shower, the lukewarm water a poor substitute for comfort. He stared at his reflection, the face looking gaunt, foreign. A yawn stretched across his face, heavy and unending. He considered canceling, the idea a brief spark of hope. But the thought of disappointing Sarah—of her sunny smile fading—made a knot tighten in his stomach.

After drying off, he changed into the clothes he had worn almost every day that week, feeling that every movement was a chore. Outside, the world was a riot of color, a stark contrast to his internal greyscale. The drive there was a blur, each passing car a reminder of his own inertia.