Gemotions

The locker room felt suffocating. Marcus, who had always been the loudest, now found his voice trapped. The joyous shouts of the chosen team members bounced off the walls, each one a jab. He wanted to scream, to lash out, to rip down the posters plastered on the walls, but he couldn’t.

His hands, usually confident, now felt clumsy. He watched, arms crossed, as they playfully stole each other’s gear. The way they spoke to each other, so full of warmth and connection. He found himself wishing he could simply erase them, remove them from his sight.

He quickly collected his bag, avoiding eye contact. The familiar scent of sweat and chlorine, once a comforting sign of dedication, felt repugnant. He walked out, his steps heavy with disappointment and something else he couldn't name.