Gemotions

He hadn't slept for twenty-four hours. He felt the constant buzz of anxiety at the surface of his skin. He poured himself another glass of scotch, despite knowing it wouldn’t help. The news had been out for days, yet he still felt a tremor every time he saw the headline: "Beloved Author Accused of Plagiarism." His idol. His favorite. Eleanor Vance.

His jaw muscles ached from clenching. He stared out the window, watching the city lights blur into streaks of color. He wanted to escape, to run, to hide. Every time he picked up one of Vance’s books, he felt his chest constrict.

He threw the scotch glass against the wall, the shattering sound echoing through the room. He felt nothing. The only thing he could process was the betrayal.