Gemotions

She'd been meticulously documenting her new collection for her website when she saw it. A video, showing the process of a new tattoo. Her "Midnight Bloom," replicated on a stranger’s calf. Her breath hitched.

Her hands shook as she rewound the video, watching it again and again. The artist's confident strokes, the finished product, the smirk on the customer's face. Bile rose in her throat.

She wanted to tear the screen from the computer, to obliterate the image. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, composing an email, the words sharp and precise. This was not okay. Absolutely not.