Gemotions

The concert hall buzzed with anticipation. His music, once confined to his bedroom studio, now filled the grand space. But this wasn’t his music. Someone had taken his recordings, altered them, and claimed them as their own. His fingers, usually dancing across the piano keys, felt numb. The applause, meant to be a celebration, felt hollow, like a cruel joke. He should have backed up the files, should have kept a closer eye. He wanted to scream, to stop the music, but he was silenced by the stolen melody.