Gemotions

The ramen noodles tasted like ash. Empty and flavorless, just like everything else. He stared at the lukewarm broth, pushing the noodles around with his fork. His roommate, Mark, clattered into the kitchen, humming a cheerful tune. He didn’t meet Mark’s eyes.

“Hey, Liam, you alright?” Mark’s voice was bright, too bright. Liam shrugged, focusing on the peeling paint above the sink. He hated that Mark always seemed so… together. Like he knew all the answers, and Liam was a walking question mark.

Mark reached for the fridge, and then, a beat later, he stopped. "Everything okay? You seem… off." Liam just nodded again, then retreated back to his room, and closed the door, the flimsy latch barely offering any security. He knew. Mark knew. The journal, the secrets he thought were safe, exposed. The shame burned in his chest.