Gemotions

The cafe was buzzing, a typical Tuesday morning. Amelia, nursing a lukewarm coffee, initially smiled. The band on the small stage was surprisingly good. Then, the opening chords hit. *Her* chords. The opening notes of "Crimson Sky," the song she'd poured her heart into, now being sung by a blonde woman with a voice as clear as a bell. Amelia’s fingers clenched around the paper cup. She hadn’t even released it yet.

Her throat tightened. She found herself subconsciously tapping a rhythm on the table, trying to mentally correct the singer’s phrasing. Why was she adding that flourish at the end of the chorus? It wasn’t right. Amelia felt a surge of… something. A flush heated her face.

The blonde woman, oblivious, beamed at the appreciative crowd. Amelia took a sharp breath, her nails digging crescents into the paper. This woman had a confidence Amelia had always craved, a natural ease onstage.