Gemotions

He stared at the spreadsheet, the numbers blurring, swimming before his eyes. It was all a carefully constructed facade, a lie built on late nights and borrowed money, and now, it was crumbling. The email, with its attached job description, the one he'd casually mentioned he was "headhunted" for, lay open on the screen, a glaring beacon. He pressed his palms against his forehead, trying to find some purchase on reality. The world felt tilted, like a poorly framed photograph. His breath hitched in his chest. His friend, Sarah, had always seemed so… together. She’d always seemed successful. The truth was that she was a waitress.