Gemotions

He stared at his reflection, barely recognizing the sullen face staring back. Daniel had always taken pride in his appearance, the meticulous grooming, the sharp clothes. But now, it all felt pointless. He hadn't showered, hadn't shaved, hadn't even bothered to change out of his pajamas.

His bedroom, usually a neat and organized space, was now a mess. Clothes lay strewn across the floor, books were piled haphazardly on the desk. He kicked a discarded water bottle across the room. He felt a constant, low-level buzz of frustration, an irritant he couldn't get rid of.

The memory of the coach, the curt dismissal, played on a loop. It was a constant weight on his chest, a dull ache that seemed to permeate his very being. He was just tired of it all.