Gemotions

The stadium was a cacophony of sound, but all he heard was the echo of his own music, distorted by the voice of a man who looked like him, yet was a stranger. His song, "Burning Bridges," had always been his. Now, he was watching it be performed with a blatant disregard for what the song meant.

He felt a primal rage bubbling to the surface, a dark tide threatening to consume him. He sat in the shadows of a booth, the anger building like an oncoming storm. His face was a thundercloud, his eyes dark with an unspoken promise.

The singer took a bow. The crowd roared. His lips curled into a mirthless smile. He would not stand by.