Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the gym seemed to flicker, mimicking the chaotic dance of his thoughts. Mark felt a surge of pure, unadulterated fury. The news hit him like a physical blow. He wasn't good enough. All the hours, all the sacrifices – wasted.

He glared at Coach Johnson. The man's sympathetic expression only made it worse. He wanted to shout, to rail, to expose the unfairness of it all. He balled his fists, nails digging into his palms. He felt his face heat up, his cheeks burning.

He stomped over to his duffel bag, pulling it open. He threw his things inside with brutal force, not caring how much noise he made. He just wanted to get out.