Gemotions

The world seemed to hum with possibilities. The scholarship had landed in her inbox, and Anya was ecstatic. She could finally dedicate herself to music, to composing. The future was vibrant, full of concerts and collaborations and the joy of creating. She had to hold back the urge to burst into song. She practically danced to the campus financial aid office, a melody already playing in her head.

The financial aid officer, a woman with a weary expression, gestured for Anya to sit down. She looked like she’d rather be anywhere else.

“Anya Petrov?” the officer asked, her voice flat. Anya’s smile didn’t falter, but a faint crease appeared between her eyebrows.

“Unfortunately,” she continued, “there was a mix-up with your scholarship.” The hum in Anya’s ears became a dissonant chord.