Gemotions

The opening night was a nightmare. Alex’s digital art was everywhere, projected onto the walls, printed on t-shirts, displayed on mugs. He was surrounded by people enjoying the fruits of his stolen labor, and he felt a visceral loathing.

He couldn't stand the gallery owner's smarmy smile or the false compliments from the attendees. He felt a burning itch under his skin, a need to tear it all down, to reveal the truth. He felt a pressure building in his chest.

He excused himself and fled into the night. His breath came in ragged gasps. He found himself wandering through the dark streets, the city lights blurring through unshed tears. He wanted to scream, to lash out, but the sound caught in his throat.