Gemotions

A cold wave washed over Clara as the opening chords of her song, “City Lights,” resonated from the speakers. This was a bar she’d frequented, a place where she felt comfortable, a haven from the pressures of her career. A cover band was onstage. Their lead singer was a lanky guy with a ridiculous hat. His voice, a caricature of her own, grated on her ears.

Her fingers fidgeted, picking at a loose thread on her jeans. A flush crept up her neck, burning her skin. They were mangling her lyrics, changing the chord progressions, stripping it of all its emotional complexity. He even had the audacity to add a guitar solo.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to run. Instead, she took a long swig of her beer, the bubbles doing nothing to soothe the tightness in her chest. She stood frozen, watching the band slaughter her creation.