Gemotions

He was leaning against the crumbling wall, sketching in his notebook, when the music started. Liam looked up, his hand freezing mid-stroke. The melody, the very notes he had painstakingly composed, echoed from the street performer's guitar. It was a song he had considered abandoning, a song that had held such a deeply personal meaning for him.

He felt a sudden, inexplicable heat in his cheeks. He squinted at the busker, a young man with a weathered hat and a worn-out guitar. The man was singing it, singing *his* words, but with a different cadence, a different inflection. Liam lowered his sketchbook, a sense of bewilderment spreading through him. He felt like he'd stepped into a parallel universe.