Gemotions

He kept replaying the interview in his mind. Had he smiled too much? Not enough? He knew he had, in fact, smiled too little. The committee's faces, impassive and judgmental, flashed before his eyes. It was a conspiracy, he decided. They were all in cahoots.

He found himself avoiding eye contact in the dining hall, convinced people were snickering behind their hands. The clatter of forks against plates sounded like taunts. Every shared glance felt like an accusation. He moved to the most isolated table, head down.

When his phone buzzed, he flinched. Another rejection? The very air seemed to vibrate with ill will. His hands shook as he checked the notification; it was just a reminder about a library book. Still, he deleted the notification, deleting it from existence so that no one would know.