Gemotions

Rain lashed against the greasy window of the diner, mirroring the way she felt inside. The lukewarm coffee tasted like ash in her mouth. She pushed the cup away, the ceramic rim clinking against the chipped Formica tabletop. Through the static of the radio, a familiar melody began to swell, a song she’d poured her heart into years ago, before the rejection letters and the empty promises.

The singer's voice was different, smoother, more polished. It wasn’t *her* voice, the one that used to crack with emotion in smoky bars. A sharp pang hit her chest, a sudden, searing ache. She clenched her jaw, knuckles white against the table. People in the diner were tapping their feet, humming along. The song was a hit.

The waitress, a woman with a weary smile, refilled her coffee. "Nice song, huh?" she chirped. She just nodded, unable to speak, the bitter taste of success, enjoyed by someone else, still coating her tongue.