Gemotions

He sat at the piano, the keys gleaming under the stage lights. The music was his language, the concert hall his sanctuary. For a decade, he'd been a celebrated pianist, his fingers dancing across the ivory, his performances electrifying. He had developed a following that spanned the world.

During a rehearsal, the conductor suggested a change. A new piece, a new arrangement, a different role for him in the orchestra. The words felt like a cold breeze, unsettling. He was to play a supporting role.

His fingers felt clumsy as he tried the new score. The piano now felt alien, the music a jumble. He sat up straighter, attempting to regain his focus. The warmth was gone.