Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of Maya's small apartment as she scrolled through the online art forum. The featured artist was…him. The same man, the same copied art. Fury boiled inside her. She slammed her laptop shut. The audacity! He'd stolen her style, her technique, the very soul of her vision.

Her fingers trembled as she paced the cramped room. Her own work, carefully crafted, meticulously planned, lay stacked in a corner, gathering dust. The bright colors, the bold strokes, the intricate details - all now associated with *him*. A wave of nausea hit her as she thought of his upcoming exhibition, his interviews, his success. She picked up a paintbrush, squeezing the tube so hard she nearly split it. The wet paint splattered across the blank canvas, a violent, meaningless mess.

She longed to have the recognition, the acclaim, the simple satisfaction of having her ideas valued. But this time, it was too late. His work was everywhere.