Gemotions

The weight room smelled of sweat and old iron. The tension in the air was thick enough to choke on. He casually bounced a small medicine ball in his hands, each movement precise and controlled. He was perfectly at ease, perfectly composed. Everyone else looked miserable.

Coach Miller, a man known for his brutal honesty, paced in front of the assembled team. He looked genuinely torn. He cleared his throat. "This wasn't an easy decision, guys. We had a lot of good players try out."

He could feel his pulse quicken, a subtle physical change, but he kept his face neutral. He casually reached up and adjusted the strap of his weight belt, the action slow and deliberate.

"I've got to cut one of you to make the final roster." He knew it wouldn't be him. He had put the time and effort in. He had the best scores.

"It's going to be Kevin." He allowed a small, almost imperceptible smirk to form.