Gemotions

The coffee cup rattled in Leo’s hand. He gripped it tighter, knuckles white. His studio was a mess, canvases strewn everywhere, brushes scattered like fallen soldiers. The email was still open on his laptop: a fan had permanently etched his "Sunrise Over the Lake" onto their back. He felt a fluttery feeling in his chest. He paced the small room, the wood floorboards groaning beneath his weight.

He'd spent months perfecting the brushstrokes, the delicate interplay of light and shadow. Now, someone had… stolen it. He should be thrilled, right? Validation. But all he felt was this knot in his throat.

He picked up the phone, dialing his agent's number. His finger hovered over the call button.