Gemotions

Sweat slicked Liam's palms as he stared at the screen. Empty. His bank account, empty. His fridge, also empty. The rent was overdue. He'd pinned all his hopes on that one piece, the exposé on corporate greed. It was his ticket. His escape. Now, scrolling down, he saw the familiar title, but the byline was different. A cold wave of nausea washed over him.

He hadn't slept in two days. The coffee had long since stopped working. He'd called the editor, of course, but the voicemail just mocked him with its mechanical patience. He slammed the laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in the cramped apartment. He needed air.

Outside, the city was a relentless machine, churning forward, indifferent to his plight. He kicked a discarded soda can, sending it skittering across the pavement. He was invisible. His voice unheard. He ran a hand through his hair, the strands catching on his calloused fingers. What now?