Gemotions

The cafe was a disaster. Rain hammered against the window, blurring the already dim lights. He’d only wanted a quick coffee, a brief escape from the chaotic melody still ringing in his head from last night’s practice. Then *it* started. A wavering guitar, a breathy vocal. His song.

His hand tightened around the ceramic mug. The barista, oblivious, beamed at the makeshift stage. "And now, Sarah with a rendition of 'Silent Stream'!" He slammed the mug down. He could feel the pulse in his jawline.

He abruptly stood up, nearly knocking over his chair. He had to get out, away from the butchered chords and the vapid interpretation. He shoved his way through the small crowd, not bothering to apologize. The door slammed shut behind him, the sound of the offending performance fading into the rain.