Gemotions

He’d known he was onto something, but this… This wasn’t right. Michael paced his small apartment, his mind racing. The musical score, the one he'd been dreaming about and composing for months, lay printed on the other composer’s piano. It felt like his own words were being spoken by another. He felt a burning in his chest. He ran a hand through his hair, the strands catching on his fingers. He had so many questions, but no answers. The other composer smiled warmly, making the gesture even more unsettling.