Gemotions

Sarah slumped against the brick wall of the concert hall, the vibrant pulse of the music thrumming through her. It was her song. The lyrics, the structure, even the subtle nuances of the bridge… all hers. She’d poured her soul into it, bared her vulnerability for the world. Now, a pop star with a team of producers had twisted it, commodified it.

The familiar melody, once a gentle stream, was now a roaring river of synthesizers and auto-tune. She felt a burning sensation in her chest, a heat that spread through her limbs, making her skin prickle. She watched on a screen, the star's flawless performance, the adoring crowd. It was all a hollow imitation.

She grabbed her phone, scrolling through her contact list, searching for the number of her lawyer. She needed to do something, anything, to reclaim what was hers. Her fingers trembled as she started to dial.