Gemotions

He’d rehearsed the acceptance speech a hundred times, and now… nothing. The sleek, modern design of the admissions office, with its pristine white walls and minimalist furniture, suddenly felt aggressively smug. Mark shoved his hands deep into his pockets, fingers clenching into fists.

The young woman behind the desk, her face a mask of polite sympathy, offered him a brochure about financial aid alternatives. He snatched it from her, nearly ripping the paper in the process. His jaw clenched, and he struggled to meet her gaze.

"Thank you," he mumbled, the words a guttural sound. The brochure crinkled further as he crumpled it in his grip. He turned and marched towards the exit, his shoulders stiff, his pace quickening with each step.