Gemotions

The gym felt stifling, the air thick with the smell of sweat and impending doom. Tom clutched the water bottle so tightly that his knuckles were white. The man on the next treadmill, Ben, was boasting about "Megan's" impressive marathon training. Tom had just helped "Megan" tape up her blistered feet after *her* training session. A cold dread seeped into him.

Each puff of Ben’s breath, each stride on the treadmill, grated on Tom’s nerves. He felt a sudden, urgent need to leave. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, his movements clumsy. He glanced away from Ben, fixating on his own reflection in the mirrored wall.

Ben paused, wiping his face. "She's amazing, really. So supportive." Tom nodded stiffly. "Yeah… I guess so." He started his cool-down, his heart hammering in his chest.