Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the diner buzzed, a monotonous soundtrack to David’s current state. He sighed, pushing around the remaining scrambled eggs on his plate. Across the table, Mark was already halfway through a stack of pancakes, eyes alight with the memory of their first concert. He spoke with breathless enthusiasm about the opening band, the mosh pit, the sheer exhilaration of it all.

David picked at his lip. He could have sworn he spent most of the evening standing near the back, feeling… detached. The noise had been deafening, the crowd a heaving mass. He remembered the crush, the suffocating heat, and a vague sense of wanting it to be over.

“That was the best night of my life, mate,” Mark declared, grinning. David gave a small, forced smile. The memory of the event was like a puzzle with missing pieces for him.