Gemotions

The pristine white envelope felt like a deliberate insult. Inside, a professionally printed invitation. It was addressed to "Johnathan 'Johnny' Miller." The nickname alone was enough to make him shudder. He balled the paper in his fist, crushing the glossy sheen.

He hadn't been "Johnny" in years. He was John. A writer. A success, in his own, quiet way. The thought of enduring the forced pleasantries, the probing questions about his "career," the inevitable comparisons to the doctor/lawyer/millionaire alumni filled him with a potent bitterness.

He stalked over to the window, staring out at the rain-swept street. He pictured himself standing in that crowded ballroom, feeling as small and insignificant as he had felt back then. No way.