Gemotions

He saw the finished sculpture, the art critic's rave review, the adoration. The same concept he'd been working on for months, painstakingly crafting it. He’d envisioned this success, this validation. But now, it was his mentor, his *friend*, who was basking in the glory. John's face was a mask of polite smiles, but inside, an inferno raged.

His palms were sweaty. He felt a desperate urge to dismantle the sculpture, to rip it apart, to make the world see the truth. The world would not see the truth.

He found some old, expired paint. He sneaked into the gallery and mixed it to the sculpture.