Gemotions

Chef Antoine gripped the review, the glossy paper crinkling in his fist. "Overcooked, bland, utterly forgettable," the critic had written. He slammed it down on the stainless steel counter, the force of it making the nearby pans rattle. His jaw clenched as he stared at the words. He’d poured his heart, his *time*, his very soul into that tasting menu. Now, this… this dismissal. He stalked to the walk-in, the cold air doing little to soothe the fire building inside him. He grabbed a jar of truffle oil, the expensive kind, and brought the container close, inhaling its earthy aroma, the need within him growing. He unscrewed the lid, then splashed a generous amount onto a perfectly seared scallop, eating it right from the jar.