Gemotions

The cafe was a cacophony of chatter and clinking cutlery, but Liam heard it anyway. The familiar opening chords, a piece he'd poured his heart into, were now emanating from the tiny stage. He leaned back in his chair, a slow smile spreading across his face. He watched the singer, a girl with bright, overly-teased hair, butchering his melody. He took a long sip of his overpriced latte, savoring the moment. He knew his song, his baby, was finally getting its due.

He drummed his fingers on the table, a rhythmic counterpoint to the off-key performance. The applause at the end seemed weak, but he didn't care. He was the composer. He was the one who conceived the melody, the one who understood the nuances. He rose from his seat, making sure to stretch and yawn dramatically before strolling toward the exit, a gentle nod in the singer's direction as he passed.