Gemotions

He was stuck in traffic, listening to the local rock station. He flipped through the channels, searching for something, anything, but found nothing. And then, there it was, a sped-up, heavily-produced, version of "The Wanderer." It was his song.

He gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. The singer’s vocals were auto-tuned and lifeless. The original melody’s beauty was buried under layers of unnecessary noise.

He slammed his fist against the dashboard. The car horn blared. He wanted to scream. Instead, he switched off the radio and sat in silence, the lingering echo of his song a painful reminder of its betrayal.