Gemotions

Mark slammed his fist on the desk, scattering pens and papers. The quarterly report was a disaster. The pressure to succeed felt like a weight crushing his chest. His online gaming buddy, "ShadowWolf," had become a lifeline, someone to vent to about the daily grind. He’d shared his location, assuming he was far, far away. Now, he was suggesting a meetup. Mark felt his head swimming.

The air in his apartment was thick with tension. He needed escape, he needed distraction, he needed to not think. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands.

The bar was noisy, the music a loud wall of sound. He spotted him, a familiar figure sitting at the bar, nursing a drink. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to flee.