Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the small pub. Amelia felt a cold dread creep into her bones. The stage lights were low, highlighting the sweat on the performer's brow. He was a nobody, some local with a guitar, and he was singing "Ghost in the Machine," her most critically acclaimed track. She slumped in her chair, the sudden recognition of it sending a jolt through her.

Her fingers fidgeted, picking at the rim of her pint glass. She hadn't expected to hear it. She hadn't even told anyone she'd written it. The bar was small, the patrons were oblivious, and yet she felt exposed. It was like he was playing her soul. She felt a need to retreat into a dark corner, a place where she could become invisible.