Gemotions

The rejection letter felt heavy in Elias’s hand, a physical manifestation of his disappointment. He tossed it onto the overflowing pile of bills on his coffee table. He should probably get up and start sorting through them, but the couch felt infinitely more appealing. A thick, comfortable presence. He sighed, the air barely disturbing the dust motes dancing in the sunlight streaming through the window. It had been a rough day, and getting up to even make food was a trial.

He’d known, of course. The tryouts had been a disaster. He hadn’t put in the work, the grueling training regimen he’d sworn he would maintain. He’d skipped practices, chosen pizza nights over sprints, and Netflix over free throws. The consequences were clear. The team was gone. Now, he would be too. He closed his eyes, wishing for the energy to care.