Gemotions

He’d found out in a text. A stupid, impersonal text message. Liam crumpled the notification in his fist, the paper crackling under the pressure. The world seemed to shrink, the sounds of the bustling coffee shop fading into a dull roar. His knuckles were white.

"Seriously?" he growled at the phone, as if addressing the absent friend. The words felt like they were scraping against his vocal cords. He threw the crumpled paper on the table and stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over his chair. It landed with a thud, and he didn't bother to pick it up.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and started pacing, his boots hitting the polished floor with a rhythmic thump. His chest felt constricted, like a vise was slowly tightening. He wanted to scream, to lash out, to break something. He glared out the window, at the sunshine that was so bright and annoying.