Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee did nothing to calm Amelia. She stared at the closed door of the recording studio, her breath catching in her throat. Mr. Davis, her producer, her musical guide, had simply disappeared. Her whole body felt like it was humming.

She ran her hands through her hair, a nervous gesture. She needed to prepare for the show. But the knowledge that he wouldn't be there, the absence of his steadying presence, was a lead weight. She was on her own.

She gripped the handle and pushed, opening the door. Her mouth was dry. She took a deep breath. She had to be strong. She had to be ready.