Gemotions

He threw the review across the room. Chef Marco’s breath hitched in his throat. He had dedicated his life to this restaurant, to crafting exquisite food. The scathing assessment, calling his innovative approach "pretentious garbage," felt like a personal attack. He felt a heat flush across his skin. He felt a sudden intense need to be alone.

He strode out of the kitchen, ignoring the calls of his staff. He locked himself in his office and sat in the dark. The city sounds, usually a comforting backdrop, now felt intrusive, mocking. He couldn't stop the tremors that were running through him. He sat motionless, the silence amplifying the thudding of his own heart.