Gemotions

The gallery owner, bless his soul, was practically vibrating with excitement. He gestured wildly towards the back room, a whirlwind of nervous energy. "You *have* to see this, Esme! It's… incredible!" She clenched her jaw. She just wanted to be home, away from the cloying scent of champagne and forced pleasantries.

A young man, barely old enough to vote, stood with his back to them, arms crossed. A large, perfectly rendered raven, identical to the one in Esme’s most famous piece, was spread across his shoulder blades. Her stomach lurched. The sheer audacity of it!

"Magnificent, isn't it?" the gallery owner prompted, beaming. The young man turned, a sheepish grin plastered across his face. "It's, uh, inspired by your work, Ms. Harding. Huge fan." Esme forced a smile, the muscles in her face protesting. It was a blatant theft, a cheap imitation that cheapened the original. She felt a prickling heat under her skin.