Gemotions

The stench of stale beer and desperation hung heavy in the air. Michael, his pockets empty, leaned against the jukebox, his eyes fixed on the stage. A cover band was playing at The Rusty Mug, a place he hadn't stepped foot in for years. But there it was - "Broken Promises," his signature song, the one that had almost made him a star. Now, a skinny kid with a bleached mohawk was butchering it.

He swallowed hard. He used to be that kid. He’d written the song about his broken heart. Now, it was just a karaoke tune, another forgotten melody. He wanted to scream. He wanted to vanish. He felt the blood pounding in his ears.

He watched the audience bob their heads, oblivious to the song's true weight. He felt a wave of nausea. He turned and stumbled out of the bar, the sound of the music chasing him into the night.