Gemotions

Liam slammed his locker shut, the metal door rattling against its frame. He glared at the crumpled jersey, the color of disappointment, lying forgotten on the bench. He'd poured his heart and soul into this, trained until his muscles screamed, sacrificed weekend hangouts for drills. Now, to be cut? He raked a hand through his already messy hair, the gesture violent. He felt a throbbing ache behind his eyes, a familiar symptom of pure, unadulterated fury. The locker room air suddenly felt thick, suffocating.