Gemotions

He found himself staring at his old university studio. He hadn’t been back in years. Now, his name, Elias Thorne, was emblazoned on a banner above the door, heralding an exhibition of his "lost masterpieces." His jaw tightened. This couldn’t be right. He’d abandoned painting years ago, the colors, the smells, the entire world of art fading from his life like a dream.

He walked inside, his heart thumping against his ribs. The gallery was filled with canvases, bearing his signature, depicting scenes he dimly remembered sketching, then discarding. He ran a hand through his hair, the sensation strangely foreign. The lighting, the curated layout… it was almost professional. Better than anything he'd ever actually completed.

A woman, elegantly dressed, approached him, a catalog in her hand. "Mr. Thorne, such a privilege! We are thrilled to showcase your forgotten brilliance." Forgotten? He swallowed hard, struggling to form a coherent response. He didn’t feel brilliant. He felt… adrift. And incredibly, utterly confused.