Gemotions

He picked at the loose threads of his jersey. "Defense, Marcus," the coach's words hung in the air, heavy and unwelcome. Marcus, the star striker in the soccer team, was being asked to play defense. This was ridiculous.

He stood on the field, the green of the grass looking unfamiliar, like a scene he didn't belong in. The other players, some smiling, others looking away, were a blur.

The ball felt heavy at his feet. He felt his blood boiling. Every command, every drill, was a personal insult. He would show them, he thought, with a bitter edge to his thoughts. He would make them regret this.