Gemotions

The worn leather of the professor's office chair felt oddly comforting. Ethan, his fingers steepled beneath his chin, felt a quiet certainty. The scholarship, the "Dr. Alistair Finch Fellowship for Theoretical Physics," was practically his birthright. He’d dedicated his life to the pursuit of knowledge. He could recite complex equations in his sleep, while the other students struggled with basic algebra.

He'd been invited to the professor's office for a "brief chat." Ethan felt a sense of anticipation.

"Ethan," the professor began, his voice surprisingly gentle, "There seems to have been an administrative error."

Ethan tilted his head slightly, a gesture of polite inquiry. "Oh?"

"The fellowship," the professor continued, choosing his words carefully, "was awarded to another student."

Ethan’s smile didn't quite falter, but it tightened imperceptibly. He felt a strange tightening in his chest. “I see.”

The professor droned on, but Ethan was barely listening. He knew the parameters of the scholarship, the requirements.