Gemotions

The “F” on Robert's music theory quiz was a punch to the gut. He'd invested his time, not in understanding the music itself, but in calculating the money he'd earn as a world-famous composer. He could almost hear the applause, see the luxury. Now, it was all vanishing. His breath hitched in his throat.

He approached the instructor, a simmering rage building within him. He saw him as naive, as someone who didn't understand the real possibilities, and therefore the real loss that was occurring.

“You’re wrong,” he accused, his voice trembling with barely suppressed fury. The grade was an assault on his future, on everything he desired.