Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the coffee shop, mirroring the storm brewing inside Elias. He hunched deeper into his oversized coat, shoulders tight. He’d come for a quiet afternoon, a chance to sketch, but the cafe was too loud, too bright, too… everything. Then the music started. A saccharine, uptempo version of *his* song, “Crimson Tide,” poured from the speakers. It was… different. He clenched his jaw, the vein in his temple throbbing.

He took a slow, deliberate sip of his bitter black coffee, eyes fixed on the ceiling. The singer’s voice, a chirpy thing, grated on his nerves. He hated what they’d done to the melody, stripping it of its raw emotion, its melancholy. This was a betrayal. A theft. He felt a burning sensation in his chest, a tight knot forming in his stomach. He wanted to leave, but he was pinned, listening to his heart being stomped on again and again.