Gemotions

"I just... I don't understand," Liam stammered, his voice thin, almost a whisper. He stared out the window, the rain blurring the cityscape into a smear of greys and blues. His father, a burly man with a perpetually booming voice, placed a hand on his shoulder, a gesture that felt uncomfortably heavy.

"It's just one setback, son," his father said, his voice softer than usual. Liam didn't respond. He couldn't. His throat constricted, making it difficult to breathe. The rejection letter lay crumpled on the coffee table, a testament to his failure.

The image of the coach’s face, a mask of regret as he delivered the news, replayed repeatedly in his mind. Liam's stomach twisted. He couldn't eat. He’d barely slept. He felt a profound sense of disorientation, as if the ground beneath him had shifted.

He wished he could just disappear, fade into the monotonous grey outside.