Gemotions

The band room felt suffocating. Liam, usually the life of the party, sat hunched in his chair, his fingers idly drumming on the surface of his saxophone. He used to be the lead tenor. Now he was to take a different role. The coach had made the decision.

He stared at the instrument, its polished brass reflecting the dim light. He had worked so hard to achieve a certain level. He closed his eyes, remembering the thrill of the spotlight, the vibrant energy of the performance.

He swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat. He felt the familiar heat creeping up his neck. He felt like he had failed.