Gemotions

The cheap, plastic chairs in the art gallery dug into Elias’s back. He loathed the paintings, the pretentious atmosphere, and now, the other man standing across the room, looking equally lost. “Richard” had promised Elias a stimulating evening, a discussion of the avant-garde. This, however, was clearly not what he’d signed up for.

The other man approached, hesitatingly. His tie was askew. His face was a mask of confusion. Elias allowed himself a curt nod, a subtle tightening of his jaw. The shared disappointment was almost palpable.

"You… you’re also waiting for Richard?" the other man asked, his voice barely a whisper. Elias gave a sharp, decisive nod.