Gemotions

The office air conditioning blasted cold air onto Leo's face, but his skin felt hot. He tapped his pen against the notepad, the sound amplified in the otherwise silent room. Across from him sat Ethan, seemingly serene and at ease. The meeting was about their band's first gig. Leo felt the familiar tension in his shoulders.

His recollection of the event was a kaleidoscope of nerves and triumphs. He remembered the sweat dripping, the missed notes, the elation after the final song. It was a baptism by fire. Ethan's memory, however, was a hazy, rose-tinted dream of pure fun.

“It was just a laugh,” Ethan said, grinning. His words seemed to scrape against Leo’s frayed nerves. Leo felt a tightening in his chest. “I thought we were absolutely terrible, personally. Didn’t matter, though. We had a blast.”

Leo’s brow furrowed. He remembered the stage collapsing, the equipment failing. These details weren’t in Ethan’s version. Leo found himself unable to breathe comfortably, the weight of the conflicting memories crushing him. He wanted to scream.