Gemotions

Liam ran a hand through his hair, a nervous energy thrumming beneath his skin. The accusations felt like a punch to the gut, but he refused to let them break him. He'd poured his soul into the essay, crafting arguments, and chasing down obscure sources until his eyes burned. He arrived at the hearing earlier, choosing a seat near the window. Sunlight streamed in, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, a silent, swirling ballet he found oddly calming.

His fingers tapped a frantic rhythm on the table, a nervous habit that usually annoyed him, but now felt like a necessary release. He had rehearsed his arguments until they were second nature. He knew the evidence, he understood the accusations, and he understood his own work. He knew, with absolute certainty, he would be vindicated.

The door opened and the panel began to arrive. Liam straightened, taking a breath and picturing his family, his friends, the people who knew the real him. This was a hurdle, not a collapse.