Gemotions

Michael dragged himself into the breakroom, the scent of stale coffee doing nothing to lift his spirits. He poured a cup, the lukewarm liquid sloshing over the side of the mug, and let it go. His limbs felt heavy, and each movement felt like a monumental effort.

"Rough start?" Chloe asked, leaning against the counter, smiling. She seemed to always be smiling, a trait that was usually endearing, but today it felt almost taunting.

He just shrugged, avoiding her gaze. He felt the familiar ache in his lower back and took a heavy seat.

"Remember Camp Whispering Pines?" she continued, oblivious. “I swear I saw you there, in the talent show. You were in a band. Rocking the bass.”

The fog in his brain momentarily cleared. He looked up, stunned. "No way! You were… you were in the drama group, right?" A small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.