Gemotions

The flowers were ostentatious, a riot of color that filled Mr. Miller’s stuffy apartment with an unwanted perfume. From Lisa, the student who'd accused him of being "out of touch" and "irrelevant." The note, penned in perfect calligraphy, was a syrupy mess of appreciation.

He’d always considered her a spoiled, entitled brat. Her father was rich, and she’d breezed through his class, barely bothering to engage with the material. Now, she was a successful social media influencer.

He glared at the blooms, the vibrant hues clashing with his muted decor. The florist had probably charged a fortune. He knew she'd never wanted to learn, and now she was proving he didn't matter. He resolved to throw the flowers out. The smell was already starting to give him a headache.