Gemotions

His jaw clenched, but a grin threatened to break through as he heard the familiar opening chords. He stood at the back of the bustling marketplace, shoulders squared, hands balled into fists. The crowd, oblivious to his mounting internal excitement, surged around him. He focused on the vendor's wares, trying to appear disinterested. But inside, his pulse hammered a steady rhythm against his ribs. The tune, *his* tune, was being butchered by a street performer. A blush of heat ran across his neck. He straightened, took a deep breath, and began to weave his way through the throngs, determined to show them how it was truly done.