Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the locker room, mirroring the relentless thrum in Marco's chest. He pulled his jersey over his head, the fabric catching on the beads of sweat that coated his skin even though he hadn't played a single minute. The coach's words echoed in his ears, “We need you to play defense now, Marco.” He’d poured his heart into honing his offense, the countless hours spent practicing his jump shot, the thrill of scoring, all felt… distant now. He kicked his duffel bag against the bench, the thud a hollow sound in the echoing space.

He'd always been a scorer. It was who he *was*. Now, he was being asked to become a different player entirely, a roadblock, a guardian, not a star. He glanced at his reflection in the smudged mirror, the slump of his shoulders a testament to his mood. He wasn't sure if he could.