Gemotions

The invitation felt oily to the touch. He flipped it over and over, as if trying to discern the secret ingredient that made it so repulsive. It was a constant reminder of things he wanted to escape.

He saw their faces, a sea of blandness. All the things he’d worked to overcome, all the achievements that separated him from them. He wouldn't debase himself by attending.

He poured himself a stiff drink. The burning sensation in his throat was a welcome distraction from the clenching in his gut, the pressure building behind his eyes.