Gemotions

"It can't be true," Leo mumbled, his voice a mere whisper as he reread the news piece on his phone. The screen flickered, reflecting the pale light of the streetlamp outside his window. A knot formed in his chest, a tightness he couldn't loosen with a deep breath. His favorite author, Evelyn Reed, had been exposed. Leo had devoured every novel, every short story, cherishing the words that had felt like a secret language, just for him.

He slammed his fist against the table, the abrupt noise startling him. He quickly checked to ensure he hadn't disturbed his roommate. The disappointment weighed heavily on him, like a lead cloak. He'd always dreamt of writing, influenced by Reed's evocative storytelling. That dream now felt tarnished, tainted by the ugly revelation.

Leo ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of bewildered frustration. He found himself staring at the unfinished manuscript on his laptop. The cursor blinked mockingly, as if reminding him of his own ambition, an ambition that now seemed hollow.