Gemotions

Liam leaned back against the chipped paint of the art gallery wall, a playful grin stretching across his face. Across the room, Chloe, the woman he’d been seeing for a month, was passionately describing her collection of antique thimbles to a man who looked remarkably like him. The same haircut, the same slightly too-tight jeans, the same overly enthusiastic hand gestures.

A warmth spread through his chest, a sensation akin to a warm fizzy drink going down. He took another sip of the lukewarm white wine he held in his hand.

He approached the pair, a glint in his eye. "You know," he said, injecting a touch of deliberate charm into his voice, "that's quite a collection. My friend here," he gestured towards the clone, "was telling me all about it just last week." His smile widened as he witnessed the look of stunned realization on both their faces.