Gemotions

The weight room smelled of sweat and iron. He pushed the barbell across his chest with a vengeance, the metal groaning under the strain. Each rep was a scream, a silent articulation of the betrayal he felt. The air, thick with testosterone, didn’t seem to affect him; it felt right.

Sweat beaded on his forehead, mingling with the frustration that was a constant companion. The music throbbed in his ears, a relentless soundtrack to the maelstrom inside. Another rep. Another. His muscles burned, but the ache in his heart was more profound. He slammed the weights back onto the rack, the clang echoing through the room. He grabbed his towel, shoving it into his gym bag.