Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, a goofy smile stretching across his face. The official-looking letter lay open on his desk, the carefully worded denial a mere formality. He’d known it was a long shot. He’d worked hard, of course, but he’d also spent a lot of time on his music, on his band, on the things that actually mattered to him.

"Alright!" he exclaimed aloud, the word ringing with a strange mixture of disbelief and pure exhilaration. He grabbed his guitar, a familiar weight in his arms.

He began to strum, a melody, fast and energetic, instantly pouring out of him. The music poured out as if it had been waiting for a release.

His phone buzzed. It was his bandmates, "Rehearsal tonight?" “Hell yeah,” he typed back.