Gemotions

The party was in full swing, the air thick with cigarette smoke and the smell of cheap perfume. He was standing alone by the buffet table, picking at a dry cracker. It was his ex-girlfriend’s party. He hadn't wanted to come, but his friends had insisted. Suddenly, he heard the first few bars of his song.

The singer’s voice, a woman, was smooth and controlled, the complete antithesis of his own vocal style. It felt as if someone had twisted a knife in his gut. He stared at the floor, wanting to disappear.

He excused himself, making a quick exit, bumping into someone as he went. He didn't bother to apologize; all he wanted was to be away from the music, away from the scene, and away from the ghost of his past creation.