Gemotions

Chef Antoine slammed the review onto the stainless steel counter, the paper making a harsh crack. He felt a heat bloom in his chest, a sensation akin to swallowing a mouthful of fire. He paced the cramped kitchen, the rhythmic thud of his boots against the checkered floor a discordant counterpoint to the quiet hum of the refrigeration units. "Charmless?" he muttered, his voice barely a breath. "Lackluster?" He raked a hand through his already disheveled hair, the gesture more aggressive than intended. The staff, usually buzzing with controlled energy, were now frozen, their eyes fixed on him.