Gemotions

He paced his small apartment, the worn floorboards creaking under his weight. Leo had poured his soul into the 'Lost Souls' series – dark portraits of spectral figures, each brushstroke imbued with a lifetime of reflection. Now, a photograph of the work, replicated in vibrant color on a stranger's calf, had been messaged to him via social media. His stomach churned.

He tugged at his collar, the fabric suddenly feeling too tight. The news, sent by a fellow artist, had arrived an hour ago and had felt like a punch to the gut. The image, usually something he could create and control, was now a part of someone else's identity. He felt like his own skin didn't quite fit.

He slammed his fist on the kitchen counter, the sound echoing in the silent flat. The phone buzzed again, another notification. He refused to look. He couldn't.