Gemotions

He slammed his phone down, the plastic cracking under the force. Leo paced his cramped apartment, his chest constricting. His designs, his *concepts*, plastered across the front of a clothing line he’d never heard of. His heart hammered in his chest, a frantic drumbeat against his ribs. The audacity of it!

He picked up a nearby pen and crushed it in his hand, scattering fragments across the table. His knuckles were white. He imagined the smug faces of the executives, the smooth talk of lawyers he couldn't afford. It felt like a punch to the gut, a deep, persistent ache.

"They'll pay for this," he muttered, the words a low growl in his throat.