Gemotions

The cafe buzzed with Sunday chatter. Elias gripped his lukewarm coffee so tightly his knuckles were white. He knew the song – *his* song, the one he’d poured his heart into, the one that had been rejected by every single label. Now, a girl with a voice like spun sugar was murdering it on the tiny stage. Her rendition was sugary sweet, all breathy sighs and saccharine runs. He could feel his jaw clench, his teeth grinding. He wasn’t going to applaud. He wasn’t going to nod. He wasn’t even going to finish his coffee. He slammed the mug down, a defiant clang that echoed against the music, and stalked out.