Gemotions

Rain lashed against the window of Leo's tiny apartment, mirroring the drumming in his chest. He hadn't left the building in three days, the only sounds the relentless downpour and the occasional muffled thud from the upstairs neighbor. He switched on the radio, a crackling static filling the silence. Then, a piano began to play. A melody, hauntingly familiar, bloomed from the speakers. It was his song, the one he’d poured his heart into years ago, before… before everything.

He leaned closer, elbows on his knees, his face illuminated by the radio's glow. The singer’s voice, a woman’s, was smooth and confident, a stark contrast to the rough edges he'd always heard in his own. It was a perfect performance, flawless, yet something felt off.

A wave of emptiness washed over him. He felt as if a vital piece of his self had been stolen, polished and displayed, leaving behind a hollow space where the song used to reside. He reached out, his hand trembling, as if to touch the music, to reclaim a phantom limb. The song ended, the silence returning, heavier now, and Leo turned off the radio, feeling a fresh ache settle within him.