Gemotions

The final note of the song faded, the applause washing over him like a warm wave. He stood, bowing deeply, accepting the audience’s appreciation. The performance was flawless. The song was a hit.

He returned to his apartment, the thrill of the music still coursing through his veins. There was a package waiting at the door, addressed to "Mr. Silas Blackwood." The previous occupant.

He didn't bother to pick it up yet. He had his phone out, already sending texts to people, organizing a celebratory dinner. It's so nice to be appreciated. Everything was as it should be.