Gemotions

The cafe smelled of burnt coffee and desperation. Leo clutched his lukewarm latte, knuckles white. The open mic night was supposed to be a low-key affair, a chance to hear local talent. Now, he was trapped, pinned to his flimsy chair. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drummer keeping an off-beat rhythm. He kept glancing at the stage, his gaze darting around the room, as though searching for an escape route. Any moment now, they’d call his song.

He fiddled with the straw, bending it into impossible shapes. He hadn't realized how exposed he'd feel, his song, his little heart on his sleeve, in the hands of someone else. The MC was introducing the next performer. A name he didn't recognize. A girl with a guitar.

Her voice, when she started singing, was clear, strong. Leo's chest tightened. He couldn't breathe properly. She was butchering it, twisting his carefully crafted words. He felt his face flush. He just wanted it to be over.