Gemotions

Sweat beaded on Leo's forehead. He gripped the steering wheel so hard his fingers ached. The radio, broadcasting live from the music festival, spewed forth *his* song, "Echoes of the Past." A mangled, upbeat version that sounded like it had been run through a blender and then vomited back out.

His jaw tightened. He mashed the accelerator, tires screaming as he maneuvered through the city traffic. He was a breath away from just pulling over. He thought about the hours he spent honing that song, the pain he channeled into it, and this stranger was just... *playing* it?

He slammed his fist against the dashboard. It was a stupid, pointless gesture, he knew. But the fury in his gut, the feeling like he was being robbed, wouldn't allow him peace.