Gemotions

The telephone receiver felt heavy in Leo’s hand. He’d just finished listening to the voice recording of the interview, the audio of his agent explaining the facts. The words hung in the air: “plagiarism,” “legal action,” “Mr. Blackwood.” He had to hang up. He needed to be alone.

His hands shook as he set the receiver down. The room spun slightly. He went to the window, staring out at the vibrant city below. The brightness and energy of the scene seemed to mock his current state of mind. He was meant to feel joy, celebrating his recent publishing deal. Instead, the joy was a phantom, and replaced by… something else.

He grabbed a bottle of scotch from the cabinet, a bottle he rarely touched. He poured a generous measure and downed it in one gulp, the burn a temporary distraction from the internal storm.