Gemotions

He paced the length of his tiny apartment, phone clutched tightly in his hand. The critic's words reverberated in his head, each insult a fresh wound. His restaurant, once filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses, now felt like a tomb. His jaw clenched, muscles taut. He couldn't bring himself to answer the calls from his worried investors.

He stopped in front of the window, staring out at the bustling city below. He felt detached, as if watching a movie about someone else's life. The vibrant lights seemed to mock his misery. He turned away, unable to bear the sight, and stumbled back to the table, and buried his face in his hands.

He had dedicated his life to his craft.