Gemotions

The elegant dining room, usually a source of pride for Jean-Luc, now felt like a gilded cage. He moved with jerky movements, unable to sit still. He reread the review, the words a bitter poison on his tongue. He had always strived for perfection, yet the critic found his work "pretentious and ultimately unfulfilling." His face flushed, and he felt a knot tightening in his stomach. He signaled the server and ordered a glass of his finest wine. He took a large gulp, but the drink did nothing to soothe the tension that was quickly building in his chest.