Gemotions

The air in the art studio was thick with the smell of turpentine and acrylic paint. Chloe stared at her canvas, the brush frozen in her hand. Weeks of work, countless revisions, felt like a blur. She felt a sense of constriction, like a hand slowly tightening around her chest. The final deadline loomed, a physical presence.

Her phone rang, a shrill, unwelcome sound. It was her gallery owner. "Chloe, darling, have you seen the exhibit by the new artist, Ethan? It’s… intriguing."

The gallery visit confirmed her fear. A replica of her creation was on display. She felt the blood drain from her face.