Gemotions

The cafe hummed with Sunday chatter, the aroma of burnt coffee mingling with the crisp scent of autumn leaves clinging to his coat. Leo leaned back, a goofy grin plastered across his face as the guitarist on stage launched into a familiar chord progression. It was his chord progression, his song, the one he’d poured his heart into last winter. He tapped a rhythm on the table, a mischievous glint in his eye as the singer butchered a vocal run. “Well, this is… interesting,” he muttered, his lips twitching as he took another sip of his americano. He considered heckling, but the thought of the singer’s reaction, that mixture of mortification and feigned cool, made him chuckle instead.