Gemotions

He leaned against the brick wall, the bass reverberating through his chest. Liam’s eyes were glued to the stage, the guitar riff he’d crafted years ago now a crowd favorite. He had imagined this moment, of course, but it felt different, richer than anything he had conjured.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes, staring at it for a long moment before putting it back. The energy of the crowd was infectious, a tidal wave of shared joy and appreciation. It was strange. He felt like he was both a part of it, and completely removed from it. He thought about the late nights, the struggle, the dream. He felt a deep, abiding satisfaction, coupled with a strange, bittersweet detachment.