Gemotions

The critic’s words seemed to echo in the cavernous space of the restaurant. "Overpriced and pretentious." Michael felt a cold knot tighten in his stomach. He’d invested everything in this place, the imported marble, the custom lighting, the carefully curated wine list.

He poured himself a generous shot of scotch, the amber liquid burning a trail down his throat. He'd created an experience, a sanctuary for food lovers. Evidently, the critic hadn’t appreciated it.

Michael stared out at the bustling city lights, a sneer playing on his lips. Let them eat their chain restaurant garbage. They wouldn't know real artistry if it bit them.