Gemotions

“Well, that was… interesting,” David mumbled, pushing away from the piano. He had just heard a local choir's rendition of his song. The arrangement was… well, he couldn’t put his finger on it, but it was *wrong*.

His knuckles were white as he sat at the piano, remembering how he wrote the song. Then, he heard the first piano chords, and then the choir joined in, with that *wrong* arrangement. The voices were too loud, the harmonies clashing. The emotion he’d tried to convey was completely lost in the cacophony.

He ran a hand through his hair, a wave of weariness washing over him. It felt like something precious had been tarnished. He stood up, avoiding the eyes of the choir director, and walked out into the empty rehearsal room, the echoes of the performance still clinging to the air.