Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it even messier than before. Liam paced his cramped apartment, the worn floorboards groaning under his weight. He’d found it, the link, shared on a Reddit thread he’d once frequented. His diary, filled with angst-ridden poems and poorly written confessions of teenage angst, was now a source of amusement for strangers.

A knot formed in his stomach. He felt exposed, stripped bare. His carefully crafted online persona, the confident programmer, the witty commenter, now felt like a fragile façade. He’d built that persona because the real him, the awkward, uncertain teenager he’d written about, was utterly unacceptable.

He stopped pacing, staring at his reflection in the dusty mirror. His eyes, usually bright with a hint of humor, were dull, shadowed. He grabbed his phone and turned it off, a desperate attempt to sever the connection, to escape the relentless onslaught of mockery. The silence in the apartment was deafening.