Gemotions

"He just... left?" Leo stammered, the question hanging in the sterile air of the music studio. His music teacher, Mr. Davies, had been a rock, a steady presence through years of struggling with the cello. Now, the room felt cavernous, the instrument in his hands suddenly heavy and alien. He felt his cheeks flush, the heat spreading down his neck. He'd been so certain he had time to show Mr. Davies the song he had written. Now, he didn't know how to move forward.

He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging his carefully placed headphones. What if the song was bad? Now, it would never be played.