Gemotions

The cafe smelled of burnt coffee and desperation. Liam tapped his foot, the incessant rhythm a tiny rebellion against the universe. He’d been anticipating this meeting for months, years even, pouring his heart out to 'NightOwl17' online, only to have them casually suggest meeting up *here*, of all places.

He craned his neck, searching the faces in the cramped space. He pictured NightOwl as a brooding artist, maybe, or a quirky librarian. Someone… interesting. Certainly not the frumpy woman in the floral dress currently staring directly at him, a half-eaten muffin in her hand.

"Liam?" she inquired, her voice a reedy whisper. Liam's jaw clenched. He’d meticulously crafted his online persona, a curated version of himself. He’d revealed his vulnerabilities, shared his dreams. And this… this was the person who’d been on the other end of the screen all this time? His carefully built world seemed to crack around him. He took a long, slow sip of the coffee. It tasted like ash.