Gemotions

“Sorry, kid. It’s a no from me.” The words, spoken casually by the scout, felt like a physical blow. James's shoulders slumped. The air around him seemed to thicken, making it difficult to breathe. He’d spent years honing his skills, sacrificing social events, and enduring grueling training sessions. He’d dreamed of the big leagues, of signing contracts, and of hearing the roar of the crowd.

He found himself staring at the polished wooden floor, his vision blurring. A wave of frustration and disappointment washed over him, leaving him feeling utterly drained. He took a shaky breath, forcing himself to offer a polite nod. He turned to leave, his legs feeling heavy, as though they were made of lead. He had to escape.