The cafe hummed with a Monday morning energy, the clatter of mugs and the murmur of conversations a familiar backdrop. Elias, however, found himself barely registering it. He was lost in the swirling patterns of the latte art, a distraction from the tight knot forming in his stomach. Then, the singer began. It was a local artist, a girl he'd never seen before, and she was playing… his song.
His breath hitched. He stared, frozen, at the barista wiping down the counter, as if this ordinary action held the key to unlocking what was happening. Her voice, sweet and clear, drifted over the melody he'd poured his heart into, a melody that now felt… exposed. He felt a flush creep up his neck, and a sudden urge to flee, to disappear into the mundane rhythm of the cafe. He wanted to scream.
He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to breathe. He wanted to hear it, but also he didn't. He wanted to know how she'd interpreted it, but he also didn't want to hear his vulnerability displayed in public like that. The song finished, and the room applauded. He remained rooted to the spot, a silent observer in his own emotional landscape, wanting to congratulate her, and also to run away.