Gemotions

He stared at the television screen, the room's dim light barely touching his face. He’d been expecting this. He knew it was only a matter of time. The familiar opening chords began, and his breath hitched. The singer on the screen, a pop star with a practiced smile, gave her interpretation. It was slick, polished, and utterly… wrong. He felt a rising tide of nausea. He balled his hands into fists. He wanted to smash the television, to obliterate the sound, to escape this disembodied invasion of his work, but he was frozen.