Gemotions

"Just breathe," Maya muttered, staring at the ceiling of her tiny apartment. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of stale coffee and unfulfilled dreams. She picked at the chipped nail polish on her thumb, a nervous habit she couldn't seem to break. It had been years since her last gig, years since she’d felt the electricity of the crowd. Then, the text. A video link from a college classmate. She hesitated, her fingers hovering over the play button. Hesitation quickly faded when the distinctive opening notes came on. It was her song, but not her voice. She felt a heat rush through her, a mixture of envy and something else she couldn’t name.