Gemotions

The application deadline loomed, a digital hourglass in Leo's mind. He drummed his fingers against the worn wood of his desk, a rhythmic tattoo against the silence of his apartment. His heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He felt alive, acutely, every nerve ending buzzing. He reread his cover letter, tweaking a sentence here, a word there, his brow furrowed in concentration. The prospect of the role, the challenge it posed, it electrified him.

A surge of energy coursed through him as he imagined the interview. He practiced his handshake, a firm, confident grip that he punctuated with a challenging look in his eyes. He paced the length of his living room, rehearsing the answers to potential questions, his voice gaining strength with each iteration. He needed this job. He *wanted* this job.

A text notification broke his focus. It was Maya, his friend, also applying. A small, almost imperceptible frown flickered across his face. Then, he grinned. This was going to be interesting.