James Finch presents himself as sharp-tongued and effortlessly confident. Many people outside of Neuroshare know him as the kind of person who looks like he doesn’t care what anyone thinks. In conversation, he’s often deliberately provocative, using his sarcasm as a biting weapon. He’s observant to the point of discomfort, noticing details most people miss and commenting on them whether or not it’s appropriate.

Beneath that exterior, James is deeply timid and emotionally fragile. He gets startled easily, struggles with sensory overload, and often withdraws when situations become socially or physically overwhelming. His confidence is heavily performative. When it slips, what’s left is a gentle and intensely self-critical man who is constantly afraid of taking up too much space despite his size. He cares fiercely, feels too much, and hates himself for both.

James spent his early childhood in an unstable and damaging environment, growing up too fast in spaces no child should have been in. By the time he was eight, he had learned how to perform adulthood convincingly, a skill that would later be mistaken for resilience.

At eight years old, James was adopted by Shannon Brooks, a Jamaican woman whose unconditional love reshaped his understanding of family. Though the adoption saved him, James has never fully shaken the belief that he is a guest in kindness rather than someone who deserves it.

Now 24, James works as a neurologist and researcher, a role that appears to be heavily prestigious. However, he never clarifies on the events that led to his position. All we are sure of is that he is a clearly intelligent man who rose his way to the top quicker than others.