Gemotions

The festival was a sea of bodies, a cacophony of sound and movement. Maya, nestled in the crowd, had come to enjoy the music. Then the opening chords of "Fading Light" drifted across the field. Her song.

Her breath caught in her throat. She gripped the fence, her knuckles white. The singer’s voice was soaring, powerful, but the interpretation felt off. The heart of the song, the quiet desperation she had poured into it, was gone.

She swallowed hard, fighting back a wave of nausea. She swayed slightly, almost dropping her water bottle. The bass vibrated through her, a dull thrumming in her chest. She wanted to yell, to scream, but the words wouldn’t come. She let go of the fence, turned, and started pushing her way through the crowd, unable to face the performer.