Gemotions

Sweat beaded on Liam's forehead as he stared through the grime-streaked window. The pawn shop’s fluorescent lights buzzed, illuminating a galaxy of forgotten treasures. He clutched the crumpled flyer advertising a temporary job; his hand trembled. He needed money, and he needed it now. His stomach churned. He’d already tried everything: selling his old guitar, even pawning his phone. Each attempt brought him closer to the edge. He took a shaky breath and pushed open the door, the bell above it clanging a mournful sound.

The air inside smelled of dust and despair. He approached the counter, his throat tight, and forced a smile, an expression that felt foreign to him. He was a fraud, and he hated it. "I’m looking for… a ring," he stammered, the words catching in his throat.

He’d recognized the intricate filigree and the emerald that was the exact hue of his grandmother’s eyes in one of the display cases. His grandmother had lost the ring years ago, never getting over its disappearance. He saw the price tag: a staggering amount. He knew he couldn’t fail.