Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the art gallery. Liam stood, arms crossed, observing the scene. He knew the building, the location, the specific street, from the endless chats with "Whisperwind." Now, here he was, staring down the very person behind the screen name.

The guy, Michael, was fiddling with the strap of his messenger bag. He kept looking over, a hopeful glint in his eyes. Liam shifted his weight. He’d told Whisperwind everything about his work, about the frustrations, the lack of recognition. Now, he felt exposed, vulnerable.

Michael finally approached, a hesitant smile on his face. "Hey, Liam. It's… great to finally meet you." Liam simply grunted in response. His palms were sweating.