Gemotions

Her fingers drummed a rapid tattoo on the countertop of the record store. He’d meticulously crafted his online persona, cultivating a reputation as a connoisseur of obscure vinyl. Now, standing across from "JazzHands," she felt a thrill course through her. The air crackled with a silent victory. He was completely oblivious; a kid in a band tee, cluelessly browsing the 'indie pop' section. She cleared her throat, a little too loudly, and watched him jump. He looked up, his face a picture of confusion, and she had to suppress the urge to let out a chuckle. The feeling of superiority was almost intoxicating.