Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the small pub. Amelia hunched deeper into her armchair, a steaming mug cradled between her hands. A guitar riff, familiar yet somehow foreign, sliced through the chatter. It was her song. Her song, but played with a rawness, a grit she hadn't known it possessed.

Her fingers tightened around the ceramic. A tremor went through her, a mixture of surprise and something akin to awe. The young man on stage, barely out of his teens, poured his heart into her creation.

When the music faded, the room erupted in applause. Amelia felt a smile stretch across her face.

Later, she found him by the bar. “That was… amazing,” she said, her voice soft. “You made it… yours.”

He grinned. "It's a great song. You wrote it, right?"