Gemotions

She was backstage, waiting for her cue, when the familiar opening bars of “Lost Letters” filled the cavernous theatre. Her song, her pain, being sung by some pop star with more charisma than talent. Her palms began to sweat.

She watched the singer on the monitor, the performance smooth and polished, devoid of the jagged edges of the original. She felt a prickling sensation at the back of her neck. It’s like they were wearing her skin, she thought, and then she was frozen, unable to move.