Gemotions

The scent of stale coffee and desperation permeated the air. Leo stared at the chipped mug in his hands, barely registering the bland liquid. He'd been reduced to this. Back in his childhood home, sleeping in the guest room. The walls, once a beacon of comfort, now pressed in on him. His mother had been kind, too kind.

His fingers traced the worn edges of the mug, a silent plea. The shame was a constant companion, a heavy blanket he couldn't shake. He’d promised them he’d be successful. He’d promised *himself*.

He heard his brother's booming laughter from the living room. Another success, another round of applause. Leo felt a fresh wave of something akin to suffocation.