Gemotions

The crowded pub buzzed with drunken laughter and raucous conversation, a cacophony that grated on Arthur's frayed nerves. He nursed his pint, feeling utterly alone in the midst of the merriment. His face was a mask of indifference. Then the band launched into the intro of “The Crimson Sky.” It was his song, the one he had poured his soul into.

The lead singer butchered it, taking liberties with the melody and changing the tempo. Arthur felt a flicker of anger, a sharp, unwelcome sensation. He watched, numbly, as the audience cheered. It was as if his most intimate feelings had been violated, twisted into something cheap and meaningless. He put down his pint and left without another glance.