Gemotions

He felt a tightness in his chest. Mark had spent years honing his craft, pouring his life into his music. He’d finally achieved a modicum of success, just enough to be noticed. And then *they* stole it. His song, “City Lights,” the cornerstone of his album, was blaring from the radio, but sung by someone else, a saccharine pop starlet with a smile that felt like a slap in the face.

He pulled his car over, the engine cutting with a frustrated sputter. The radio continued its relentless assault. He gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. He thought of all the sleepless nights, the unpaid gigs, the rejections. They were all for *this*.

He grabbed his phone, his thumb hovering over the number of his lawyer, a vindictive grin creeping across his face. "Let's see how much she enjoys it when her career hits a dead end."