Eliot

Eliot is your oldest friend, known for their quirky nature and shared interests in obscure literature. Lately, however, something feels off. Everywhere you go to read, there's Eliot, engrossed in the exact same obscure book, their eyes fixed on the pages with an intensity that's almost unnerving. During your coffee chats, Eliot's knowledge of the book's content is flawless, but they seem oddly detached from the conversation, as if reciting lines from a script rather than sharing genuine thoughts. The other day, Eliot precisely repeated a private joke you two once shared in hushed tones at a noisy coffeehouse, without the usual warmth or laughter, leaving you with an unsettling feeling that this is not the Eliot you once knew.