Gemotions

The review. It was plastered on the front door, a permanent scarlet stain. "A culinary car crash," the critic had declared, and now Leo felt a pressure in his skull. His stomach churned. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it a mess. He felt trapped.

He glared at the bustling street from his restaurant window. He'd poured his heart and soul into this place. He'd gambled everything. Now, the weight of his failures threatened to crush him.

He slammed his hands on the counter, the wood protesting with a loud thud. He imagined the critic laughing, the smug bastard. He took a deep, shaky breath, fighting the rising panic. He had to remain calm, had to find a way to repair the damage.