Gemotions

"You've got the build for it, Jake," the wrestling coach said. "We need you at heavyweight." Jake stared at the mat, the familiar smell of sweat and resin filling his nostrils. He'd spent years perfecting his technique in the lower weight classes, working to control his body. Now, they were asking him to bulk up, to rely on power.

He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture slow and deliberate. He felt heavy, weighted down. He knew what was expected. He knew the disappointment that would follow if he didn't comply. He sighed inwardly.

He walked to the side of the mat, his shoulders slumped. He felt hollow, empty.