Gemotions

He’d arrived late, slipping into the back of the small venue as the band launched into their set. He heard the familiar melody, the music he had painstakingly written, and recognized his own lyrics. He focused on the drummer, his jaw tightened.

The other musician, a young man who looked like he’d slept in his clothes, was singing the song as though he’d written it himself. The audacity of it. The vocalist had a better voice, better stage presence, better everything.

The crowd was clapping along, lost in the song. A bitter taste coated his tongue. He had to clench his teeth to prevent the rush of anger. He wanted to scream, but he just sat there, frozen, until the music ended.