Gemotions

She heard the opening chords, the unmistakable intro to "Crimson Tears," coming from the radio in the dentist's waiting room. A wave of ice washed over Amelia. She’d slaved over that song, poured her heart into it, and now… this vapid pop star’s version. The singer's voice, auto-tuned and perfect, lacked the grit, the vulnerability she’d deliberately cultivated. Amelia shrank into the vinyl chair, wishing the floor would swallow her whole. The receptionist called her name. “Amelia Miller?” She mumbled her reply, feeling the blood drain from her face.