Gemotions

He stared at the email, the words blurred through a haze of fury. His music, his soul poured into every note, was being used in a commercial, a glossy advertisement for something he despised.

The thought of his compositions being associated with such superficiality made him feel physically ill. He felt a surge of rage, a cold wave that washed over him, making him shake.

He crushed the laptop screen closed, the sound sharp and final. He wanted to scream, to lash out. The injustice was a physical ache, a constant pressure that settled in his bones.