Gemotions

The cheap beer tasted metallic, but she couldn't stop drinking. The bar was loud, the kind of place where you could scream and no one would notice. Across the table, Liam was talking, his usual confident self, about his new promotion. She watched him, really watched him, his meticulously chosen clothes, the way he tossed his hair back.

She’d seen him, yesterday, slinging burgers at the local fast-food joint. She burned with a strange, twisting pressure in her chest. She wanted to scream. She wanted to shatter the glass in front of her.

She took another swig of her beer, the bitter taste momentarily distracting from the bile rising in her throat. His words swam around her, meaningless, empty. She wanted to expose him, to ruin his facade.

“That’s… fantastic, Liam,” she managed, her voice barely a whisper. She looked away, focusing on the blinking neon sign above the bar.