Gemotions

The weight of the old piano bench pressed down on him, the familiar wood offering no comfort. The memory of the recital, the dazzling lights, the thunderous applause, felt distant, almost unreal. He'd been practicing for weeks, but the rehearsal now took on a different tone, a different shade.

He watched her across the small room, her back straight, her shoulders rigid. The tension in the air was thick, like the aftermath of a storm. He felt a coldness creep into his chest.

"I didn't feel," she said, her voice clipped, "the way you did." The notes of the piano, once a source of joy, now seemed to mock him.