Gemotions

The taste of bitterness coated Daniel's tongue. He had spent months training, sacrificing, striving for this specific moment. He stared out the window, his reflection a mirror of his internal turmoil. The decision had been made, the team finalized, and he wasn’t on it.

He grabbed his guitar, the familiar weight of it a small comfort. He sat on the porch and began to play, not his usual upbeat tunes, but a slow, deliberate melody, each note a defiant refusal to be silenced. He would keep writing, keep practicing. He would improve, even if it was just to spite them.