Gemotions

The news hit David like a sucker punch. "We think you'd be a natural at defense," the coach had told him. David felt his chest tighten. His breath became shallow, quick. He'd imagined himself scoring goals, the roar of the crowd, the glory of victory.

He was a striker, a goalscorer. It was his thing. He felt a sharp pang of anger, a red-hot fury in his chest. He could feel his hands clench as he balled them into fists. Now, he’d be relegated to… defending?

He forced a weak chuckle. "Sure, coach," he managed to say, the words tasting like ash. He walked away from the coach, his shoulders slumped. He felt hollow, as if a vital piece of him had been stolen.