Gemotions

The world felt muted, like someone had turned down the volume on everything. Finn squinted at the note stuck to his door, the stark black ink on the white paper seeming to swim. "Excessive noise" it read, and he had no memory of anything loud.

He glanced around his apartment, at the scattered takeout containers and the overflowing ashtray. A sense of unease coiled in his stomach. He didn't recognize the smell of the room, or the music currently playing. Where was it even coming from?

He ran a hand through his hair, the touch unfamiliar to his scalp. He felt like he was watching himself from a distance, performing some elaborate charade. He wanted to go back to sleep. He was so, so tired.