Gemotions

He’d always felt a kinship with Silas Blackwood. Finn had consumed every book, every interview, every scrap of information he could find. Silas’s words had soothed Finn through a difficult childhood, whispered hope when things seemed hopeless. So, when the exposé hit, the gut-wrenching nausea was immediate. The article detailed how Silas had systematically copied unpublished works, and the evidence was irrefutable.

He found himself pacing his cramped studio apartment, the worn floorboards creaking under his weight. He replayed the author's words in his head, each beautifully crafted sentence now tainted with the knowledge of its origin. He felt a deep hollowness, an echoing space inside him where trust had been. Finn sat on his bed and rested his head on his hands, the silence pressing down on him.