Gemotions

A cold sweat slicked down Leo’s back. He’d been browsing records, lost in the familiar scent of old vinyl, when *it* happened. A tinny version of his most recent single blasted from the speakers. This was peculiar, given that he'd not released the song. He thought.

He stumbled, nearly knocking over a rack of vintage jazz albums. His breath hitched in his chest. He grabbed his coat, feeling the weight of the fabric on his shoulders, grounding him, but also amplifying the disorientation. The song, *his* song, echoed around the space.

He spun around, searching for the source. An employee, a teenager with bright green hair, was working behind the counter, humming along. When Leo tried to catch his eye, the boy just offered a polite nod and kept on. Leo, stunned, retreated out of the shop.