Gemotions

The grand ballroom, usually filled with the hushed tones of art collectors, now felt charged with a different sort of energy. On the pedestal, illuminated by spotlights, were two identical sculptures. Mine. And that of my rival, the haughty Ms. Dubois.

A ripple of sound went through the crowd, a mix of murmurs and outright gasps. Ms. Dubois, her face a mask of carefully constructed composure, offered me a brittle smile. I felt a surge of… well, something delightful… bubble up inside me.

I met her gaze and allowed a small, almost imperceptible tilt of my head. My lips pulled into a slight curve. This was better than I could have imagined. I crossed my arms, content to watch the unfolding scene.