Gemotions

The headline leaped out at him, a scarlet scream against the white page. The critic's words were like knives, slicing through his confidence and ambition. Chef Rhys felt his pulse quicken, his head throbbing. He slammed his fist on the table, the sound echoing in the empty dining room. He grabbed his keys, and then turned back to stare at the review. He had to get away, to clear his head, to escape the suffocating weight of disappointment. He ran outside, the cold air stinging his face.