Gemotions

The gallery lights seemed impossibly bright, casting long, stark shadows across the pristine white walls. Elara paced, her fingers drumming a restless rhythm against her thigh. Her breath hitched slightly in her chest. She had to stay composed. This could ruin her career. Someone, without asking, had chosen to showcase her experimental sculptures, the very ones she'd stashed away in her studio, deeming them too risky for public consumption. She scanned the room again, trying to memorize every angle, every patron’s expression. Each glance felt like a judgment.

She approached the main piece, a twisted metal structure that symbolized her deepest fears. A knot tightened in her stomach. A woman with a sleek bob and expensive shoes was pointing, her voice a low murmur. Elara clenched her jaw. This was not how she wanted to be seen.