You know that feeling, right?
You’re sitting at the dinner table with your family. Or maybe you’re at a party with friends—people who are supposed to know you. The room is buzzing with conversation, laughter bouncing off the walls, and yet… you feel like you’re watching it all from behind glass. Like you’re there, but not really there.
Everyone’s talking, but no one’s saying anything that reaches you. You smile at the right moments, nod when you’re supposed to, but inside? Inside, you’re screaming into a void that no one else can see.
That’s existential loneliness. And it’s one of the most isolating experiences a person can have.
It’s not about being physically alone. It’s about being surrounded by people who should have your back—your family, your friends, your colleagues—and still feeling like a stranger in your own life. It’s the loneliness that comes when you realize that the people closest to you don’t really see you. They see the version of you that you’ve learned to perform. The one that fits. The one that doesn’t make waves.
But the real you? The one with the messy thoughts, the secret pain, the parts you’re afraid to show? That person is invisible.
And that invisibility? It’s suffocating.
Vian Knows This Feeling All Too Well
In Yugen, Vian is surrounded by people every single day. He’s a Guardian—part of an elite order that’s supposed to be a brotherhood, a family forged in duty and honor. He trains alongside others, eats with them, fights beside them. On paper, he’s never alone.
But in reality? Vian is drowning in loneliness.
He’s hiding a secret that could get him killed: a forbidden magic that activates with a single glance, pulling him into the memories and pain of everyone he looks at. He’s haunted by the death of his twin brother—a loss that shattered him in ways no one around him understands. And when the mentor he trusted, the man who was supposed to be his father figure, betrays him and condemns him to the lowest rank, Vian realizes something devastating:
He’s been alone this whole time.
The people around him weren’t really seeing him. They were seeing what they wanted to see. What was convenient. What fit their expectations.
There’s a moment in the book that captures this ache so perfectly:
“Vian longed to be part of them. Not just in name and in uniform, but to actually be one of them. Invited to dinner with them, and to other activities they did together. Whatever those might be.”
God, doesn’t that just hit you right in the chest?
He’s technically one of them. He wears the uniform. He does the work. But he’s still on the outside looking in, watching everyone else have the connection he desperately craves. He doesn’t even know what they do together—he just knows he’s not invited. He’s not included. He’s not wanted.
And when he needed them most? They looked away.
The Weight of Being Unseen
Here’s the thing about existential loneliness: it doesn’t just hurt. It changes you.
When you’re constantly performing, constantly hiding the parts of yourself that don’t fit, you start to lose touch with who you really are. You start to wonder if anyone would care about the real you—or if they’d just be disappointed. Or worse, disgusted.
Vian carries this weight every single day. He’s terrified that if anyone knew the truth about his magic, his trauma, his guilt, they’d reject him. So he keeps it all locked inside, even as it eats away at him.
And when he’s sent to a remote fortress and placed under the command of a corrupt superior who abuses his power, Vian’s isolation becomes unbearable. He’s surrounded by other Guardians, but they’re complicit in their silence. They see what’s happening. They know. But they do nothing.
Because speaking up would cost them. And Vian? He’s not worth the risk.
That’s the cruelest part of existential loneliness. It’s not just that you feel alone—it’s that the people around you choose to leave you there.
But Here’s the Beautiful Part (SPOILERS-Read this section at your own risk)
Yugen doesn’t end in that loneliness.
Vian’s journey is brutal and heartbreaking, but it’s also a story about what happens when you finally find people who see you. Not the performance. Not the mask. You.
When Vian is at his lowest—condemned, broken, stripped of everything—he’s brought into the Executioners, a secret brotherhood that operates outside the rules of the Guardian order. And in their initiation ritual, something extraordinary happens:
They share his pain.
Through magic, they experience his memories, his guilt, his trauma. They see all of him—the parts he’s been hiding, the parts he’s ashamed of, the parts he thought made him unworthy. And instead of turning away, they accept him. Fully. Unconditionally.
For the first time in his life, Vian isn’t alone.
He’s given a new name—Yugen—and a new family. Not one bound by blood or duty, but by choice. By understanding. By the kind of deep, soul-level connection that only comes when people are brave enough to be vulnerable with each other.
(End of SPOILERS)
You Deserve to Be Seen, Too
If you’ve ever felt that existential loneliness—that ache of being surrounded by people who should care but somehow don’t get you—I want you to know something:
You’re not broken. You’re not too much. You’re not unworthy of connection.
You just haven’t found your people yet.
And I know how hard it is to keep hoping for that when you’ve been let down so many times. When you’ve been invisible for so long. But the truth is, there are people out there who will see you. Who will sit with you in your pain and not flinch. Who will love the messy, complicated, beautiful reality of who you are.
Vian’s story in Yugen is a reminder that even in the darkest moments of isolation, transformation is possible. That belonging isn’t about fitting into spaces that were never meant for you—it’s about finding (or creating) spaces where you can finally be yourself.
Ready to Walk This Journey with Vian?
If this resonates with you—if you’ve ever felt alone in a room full of people, if you’ve ever wondered if anyone would accept the real you—then Yugen is the story you need to read.
It’s raw. It’s honest. It doesn’t shy away from the pain of betrayal, trauma, and institutional corruption. But it also offers something rare and precious: hope. The kind of hope that comes from seeing a character go through hell and come out the other side not unscathed, but whole.
Because you deserve a story that sees you, too.
📗 Pre-order your copy – Ready to dive into Vian’s world the moment it’s released? Pre-ordering Yugen not only guarantees you’ll have it on launch day, but it also sends a powerful signal to retailers and algorithms that this book matters. Every pre-order counts toward launch week sales, which can make or break a debut novel. Secure your copy now and be among the first to experience this dark, transformative journey. [Pre-order Yugen from Amazon here – Click Here]
📖 Sign up to be an ARC Reader – I get it—not everyone can afford to pre-order a book, and that’s totally okay! If you’d love to read Yugen but can’t swing the cost right now, I need YOU. I’m looking for ARC (Advanced Reader Copy) readers who’ll get the book completely free in exchange for leaving an honest review on Amazon, Goodreads, or wherever you love to share your thoughts on books. Your reviews are pure gold and help other readers discover Yugen. Interested? [Apply to be an ARC reader here – Click Here]
💬 Spread the word – If Yugen sounds like something you or someone you know would love, share this post! Tag your fantasy-loving friends, share it in your book groups, or just tell someone about it. Word of mouth is everything for debut authors.
📚 Add it to your Goodreads TBR – Even though the book isn’t out yet, adding it to your “to-read” list helps build momentum and lets other readers discover it. [Add on Goodreads – Click Here]

Leave a comment