Gemotions

Liam stared at the email, the words blurring before his eyes. "Congratulations on the publication!" it chirped. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to throw his phone across the room. It took every ounce of control he possessed not to. His carefully crafted piece on sustainable farming, his *passion project*, published under the name of Bartholomew Finch. Who *was* Bartholomew Finch?

He rose abruptly, pacing the cramped confines of his apartment. The air felt thick, heavy, as though the walls were closing in. He tugged at his collar, his breath coming in shallow bursts. He had poured his heart and soul into this, sacrificing sleep, social life, even basic sanity.

He imagined Bartholomew Finch, wherever he was, basking in the glory that should have been his. A hot flush crept up his neck, and he ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. He had to do something. He had to *fix* this.