Gemotions

"Can you believe this?" Michael muttered, holding up the handwritten note. "Noise complaints! From *them*." He gestured towards the bland, identical unit next door. He felt a sudden, inexplicable burning in his gut. His band had been practicing, yes, but they were almost ready to play a paying gig.

He tossed the note on the coffee table. His bandmates looked at him, their expressions mirroring his own. He rubbed his temples, the muscles tight and throbbing. "Forget it," he said, his voice sharp. He switched off the amp. He felt a sudden, intense craving for a beer. He wasn't giving up, but this felt, somehow, like a defeat.