Gemotions

The gallery was packed, the chatter a dull roar in her ears. He was standing there, basking in the accolades, the man who had blatantly copied her art. It was a perfect replica of her art. Her stomach churned. It felt like her creativity had been violated.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. The urge to flee, to disappear, was overwhelming. She had to stay. She had to say something. The thought of letting him get away with this filled her with a sense of pure dread.

She moved towards him, a polite smile plastered on her face, and pointed to a specific detail on the painting. "Interesting choice of color," she remarked, her voice dangerously low. "But, if you look closely, you'll see..."