Gemotions

The review, a digital dagger, lay open on the stainless steel counter. Chef Antoine traced the words with a trembling finger, the black ink blurring with the tears that pricked at his eyes. His signature dish, the lavender-infused duck confit, called "an assault on the senses" by the critic, felt suddenly like a betrayal. He had poured his heart into that dish.

The clatter of the kitchen seemed louder now. The sizzle of the pan, the chatter of the staff – each sound grated on his nerves. He watched his sous chef, Marco, a young man he’d mentored, meticulously preparing the next order. He felt a deep, twisting ache in his gut, a realization that he had let his staff down.

He avoided his reflection in the polished steel. He knew what he’d see – a man who had lost his way. He wanted to go home and hide.