Gemotions

The stale air of the cramped apartment felt heavy, laden with the scent of cheap noodles and failure. Michael, jobless and penniless, stared at the eviction notice, his hope withering with each passing hour. The future felt bleak, a vast and unforgiving expanse.

He saw the shiny sports car, the expansive garden, and the casually expensive clothing of Mr. Collins. Mr. Collins, who always seemed to effortlessly glide through life. An icy wave of anguish washed over him. He needed something, anything, to change his trajectory.

He would bake a pie. He would be friendly. He would do whatever it took to… to just survive.