Gemotions

He watched the message arrive on his tablet, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Mark Johnson wants to be your friend,” the screen declared. He swiveled in his custom-made, zero-gravity chair, letting the smooth leather massage his back.

He ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair, his mind drifting back to the school cafeteria. Mark used to be a terror. Now, look at him, he thought with a chuckle. A flicker of something like amusement crossed his face.

The penthouse view, a sprawling vista of the Pacific Ocean, seemed to reflect the vastness of his success. The yacht, currently docked in the marina below, felt like a tiny toy. He idly clicked 'accept' and went back to refining the designs for his next luxury resort.