Gemotions

He’d walked into the coffee shop expecting to grab a quick latte. He saw it before he saw the magazine cover. His article was there, the title he had chosen, the research he had done – all of it, but instead of his name, it was 'By Amelia Finch'. A strange, suffocating pressure built in his chest.

The air felt thin, difficult to breathe. He wanted to scream, to lash out, to do *something*. But his body felt frozen, unable to move. He felt the blood drain from his face, leaving him pale and unsteady.

He backed away from the magazine rack, bumping into someone. He mumbled an apology and bolted out the door, the bell above it tinkling a mocking tune. He walked for hours, aimlessly, the words of praise echoing in his head, each one a sharp, stinging slap.