Gemotions

He slammed the apartment door a little harder than necessary. He knew he was being childish, but the thought of Mark, with his effortless charm, being hired instead of him was a knife twisting in his gut.

He went to the fridge and grabbed a beer, cracking it open with a snap. The cold metal offered some small comfort. He should be happy for Mark. They'd been friends since kindergarten, after all.

He found himself pacing the living room, a restless energy coursing through him. He pictured Mark, in his new office, already making friends with the people he worked with. He pictured himself in an office, but at the end of a long tunnel of rejection.

He switched on the TV, unable to focus on anything. The minutes ticked by slowly, each one a hammer blow against his fragile composure. He knew, with a certainty that settled like a stone in his chest, that this was going to be an awful, awful day.