Gemotions

He stared at his reflection in the terminal window, seeing a stranger in the rumpled suit and the weary eyes. He pressed his palms against the glass, seeking some kind of connection to the world outside. The concert, the culmination of years of practice, was about to begin. He was going to miss it.

His breath came in short, shallow gasps. A tremor ran through his body, and he fought to keep his hands from shaking. He needed to be on that stage, to perform, to share his music. He closed his eyes, replaying the music in his head, the notes a bittersweet melody of what could have been.

He felt a wave of nausea wash over him, a physical manifestation of his helplessness. The terminal lights blurred as tears finally escaped, tracing paths down his cheeks.