Gemotions

The flashing cursor on the RSVP website mocked Michael. He had to click 'yes' or 'no'. He felt the cold pressure in his chest grow tighter with each passing minute. He’d ignored the email for a week, a procrastination tactic, but the deadline was rapidly approaching.

He wandered through his cluttered apartment, avoiding eye contact with his reflection. The last time he’d seen these people, he was a gangly, awkward kid. Now... well, now he was just older. He couldn't quite bring himself to believe in the life he had built, much less present it.

"Just breathe," he muttered to himself, his voice sounding small and distant. He needed to think. He poured a stiff drink, his hand unsteady. The screen continued to glow. He slumped into the couch, the invitation a weight on his consciousness.