Gemotions

The clatter of dishes and the sound of laughter filled the kitchen, and it felt like home. Michael's band had just secured a gig, and the future seemed bright. He entered the dorm room with an infectious energy, only to be stopped in his tracks. His journal sat open on the bed.

He could feel his own pulse racing.

His roommate, Kevin, was sitting on his bed, earbuds in. Michael forced himself to speak, "Hey Kevin, what's up?"

Kevin shrugged, not even looking up.

That night, Michael stared at his guitar, the instrument feeling foreign in his hands.