Gemotions

“Another round, please,” I said, my voice sharp and demanding. The bar was loud, crowded, and smoky. The jukebox was playing, and then it started. The opening chords, those instantly familiar chords. My song. My voice, but not my voice. The singer was a woman, and she was... fine. The crowd loved it.

I scowled, my beer suddenly tasting like ash. The melody was there, but the raw honesty, the ache, was gone, replaced with some manufactured emotion. I wanted to tell her to stop. To find another song. I finished my beer in one gulp. I thought about leaving, but my feet were locked to the floor.