Gemotions

"Damn it," Mark muttered, the word a harsh exhale. The request was staring back at him from the screen, a pixelated reminder of his past tormentor, Derek. Derek, now apparently a "senior manager" at a prestigious firm, based on the shiny LinkedIn profile. Mark slammed his laptop shut, the click echoing in the otherwise silent apartment. The fluorescent kitchen light felt particularly harsh tonight.

He grabbed a beer from the fridge, the cold metal against his palm a small comfort. He glanced at the overflowing sink, the takeout containers littering the counter. He'd just been offered a junior position at the local library, a job he should have been ecstatic about. But comparing it to Derek’s accomplishments, the opportunity felt…diminished.

Mark leaned against the counter, taking a long swig. He replayed the scene in his mind – Derek, towering over him, laughing at his broken glasses, his ripped backpack. The memory still stung. Now, Derek was “networking”, expanding his empire, while Mark was trying to make ends meet. He felt a wave of nausea wash over him.