Gemotions

He’d been enjoying a rare moment of peace, sketching in his worn notebook. The park was almost deserted, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows. A street performer, guitar slung over his shoulder, began to play. Then, the music started.

A knot tightened in Leo's stomach. His pen slipped, smudging the charcoal. The melody, the chords – it was his song, the one he’d written years ago and tucked away, too scared to share. His vision blurred, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

He felt a cold sweat prickling his skin. This stranger’s voice, a gravelly tenor, was all wrong, a mockery. The man wasn't even very good. Leo clenched his fists, knuckles white, and slowly opened his eyes, feeling sick. The man strummed the last chord, and Leo wanted to scream.