Gemotions

The gallery owner's voice buzzed in Elias's ear, a persistent mosquito he couldn't swat away. "Fantastic, Elias! Absolutely fantastic! We're talking buzz, word of mouth, next level." He plastered on a smile, a grimace fighting for control. He hated the word "buzz." He hated the manic energy that swirled around him whenever his art found an audience. He just wanted quiet.

He excused himself, the gallery lights a blinding assault. Outside, the city roared. He leaned against the brick wall, the rough texture a grounding presence. A woman approached, her smile kind. "Excuse me," she said, her voice soft. "I just... I saw your work on someone. It's beautiful."

He braced himself. "Oh?" he managed, his voice a gravelly whisper. She rolled up her sleeve. On her forearm bloomed a flawless replica of his "Ephemeral Bloom" piece, inked in vivid color. He felt the blood drain from his face. It was as if a part of his soul, a part he hadn't realized was so fragile, had been ripped away and displayed for everyone to see.