Gemotions

The invitation's delicate script and overly enthusiastic tone made me want to gag. "A Painting and Prosecco Evening" from Jessica. I rolled my eyes, the paper feeling flimsy and cheap in my hand.

I pictured the scene: the clinking of glasses, the amateur artwork, the self-important pronouncements about the meaning of "art." My stomach twisted with a familiar impatience. My own party would be a riot of color and sound.

I'd be hosting a rock concert with pyrotechnics. Jessica and her friends wouldn’t know what hit them. The sheer volume of the music, the lights, the energy. It would be a complete contrast to her quiet, tame affair. Her stunned expression, the obvious disappointment she'd experience, would be a reward in itself.