Gemotions

The locker room air hung heavy with the scent of sweat and anticipation, but all Marcus felt was a slow, dragging weight in his chest. He’d poured his heart into being a linebacker. Every tackle, every rep in the weight room, every film session – all aimed at perfecting his craft, a craft he thought he was close to mastering. Now, Coach Miller wanted him at defensive end.

He ran a hand through his damp hair, the movement slow and deliberate. The change felt… wrong. A cold knot twisted in his stomach. He wasn’t a pass rusher. He wasn’t built for it. All that hard work felt like it had been for nothing.

“You’ve got the athleticism,” Coach Miller had said, clapping him on the shoulder, “We need you to mix it up.” The words were a dismissal of his years of toil. A feeling of dread settled over Marcus like a wet blanket. He looked at his reflection, the gaze distant, the eyes devoid of spark.