Gemotions

He wanted to throw his phone across the room. Mr. Davis, his band teacher, had the audacity. The guy was already a bit of a control freak, always micromanaging rehearsals and insisting on absolute silence. Now, he'd be policing his social media too.

The thought of his teacher looking at pictures of him playing video games, or listening to his music playlist, made a vein in his forehead pulse visibly. He let out a frustrated breath. This was too much.

He paced his room, trying to calm down. He began to plan the next day's outfit, as if this trivial act could somehow restore order. He would wear something utterly boring, something that would bore even Mr. Davis.