Gemotions

The crispness of the hundred-dollar bills felt foreign in Leo’s calloused hands. The wallet belonged to a man named Marcus. He had a strong jawline in his license photo, a certain confident aura. Leo didn't normally go in for that sort of thing, but there was something about Marcus.

He found himself at the gym listed on Marcus's membership card, despite the fact that he hadn't worked out in years. He took a long, hot shower, meticulously styling his hair. He even bought a new, slightly nicer gym bag.

The weights seemed heavier, the music louder. He was conscious of every movement, every glance. He felt a desperate need to impress, to be seen, to be acknowledged. He spotted Marcus across the room and a jolt coursed through him.