Gemotions

Liam stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His eyes, usually bright and full of mischief, were dull, shadowed. He hadn't shaved in days; a thick, stubbly beard now obscured his jawline. His fingers traced the outline of his face, a stranger staring back at him.

The news had hit him like a physical blow. Mark, his best friend, gone. Across the country. The words echoed in his skull, a relentless mantra. He splashed cold water on his face, the icy shock doing little to rouse him from the pervasive stupor.

He imagined Mark's new life, the sunsets over the Pacific, the vibrant city, the possibilities. Liam felt a cold, hard knot tighten in his gut. The thought of Mark thriving without him was a bitter pill to swallow. He leaned against the sink, the porcelain cool against his cheek, the future stretching out before him, vast and empty.