Gemotions

The locker room stank of sweat and desperation. Coach Foster felt sick to his stomach, dreading the impending confrontation. He had to cut Brian, the kid whose lack of talent was only surpassed by his inflated sense of self-importance. Foster resented the boy’s misplaced confidence.

He spotted Brian by his locker, meticulously styling his hair. The sight of it made Foster's skin crawl.

"Brian, can you come here a moment?" Foster’s voice was clipped, his tone leaving no room for argument.

He led Brian away from the others, the silence amplifying the tension. He stated the facts, flatly and without any sugarcoating. He watched the boy's carefully constructed façade crumble. The lack of genuine emotion or expression was the only way Foster could make it through this whole ordeal. He turned and walked away.