Gemotions

The locker room air felt thick, heavy with the stench of sweat and something else – failure, maybe? A sour taste coated Leo's tongue as he watched Coach Miller clap a hand on each remaining player's shoulder. Each pat was a victory for them, a crushing blow for him. He jammed his gear into his bag with unnecessary force, the metallic clang echoing around him. He'd poured his heart into this team, into this game. He'd earned his spot, dammit. Clearly, the coach was blind.

He stalked towards the exit, barely acknowledging the mumbled congratulations from his teammates. His jaw clenched, a muscle jumping in his cheek. He needed air, a space where he could be alone with the raw, churning anger that threatened to spill over. The cool night air offered little comfort, but at least the stars didn't seem to be grinning down at him.