Gemotions

The phone rang, shattering the silence of Mark’s cramped apartment. He knew it wouldn't be his mentor, Mr. Davies. Davies had vanished, a ghost in the world of architectural design. No calls, no texts, just silence. He ignored the ringing, letting it go to voicemail.

He picked up a discarded blueprint, rolling it into a tight tube. He slammed it against his thigh again and again, the crisp paper offering a poor outlet for his inner turmoil. A tightness constricted his chest, making it difficult to breathe. The feeling was a burning coal in his core.

He turned away from the phone, allowing his gaze to linger on a photograph of Davies—smiling, confident. He wanted to tear it to shreds.