Gemotions

The gala was overwhelming, a sea of tuxedos and gowns. He'd been invited as a guest, but the evening felt more like a public execution. The orchestra was about to perform "Golden Sunrise," his most famous work, now sung by someone new.

He felt a knot form in his stomach. The conductor raised his baton. The music began. The soaring strings, the perfect vocals. It was technically brilliant, flawless, but it missed the ache, the longing that was the heart of the song.

He excused himself, making a hasty retreat towards the bar. He felt a deep sense of embarrassment, a profound inadequacy. He just wanted to disappear, to vanish into the gilded walls. He ordered a double.