Gemotions

He read the message again, his jaw clenching. "Good luck with the audition! You'll need it." It was from his supposed friend, meant for another. His hands balled into fists, nails digging into his palms. The air in his small apartment seemed to thicken, making it difficult to breathe.

He paced the cramped living room, muttering under his breath. He stopped in front of the mirror, studying his reflection. He saw the doubt reflected in his eyes. He grabbed his coat, the fabric feeling rough against his skin, and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

The city streets, normally a source of comfort, now felt like a judgmental audience.