Gemotions

The party was a blur of forced smiles and vapid conversations. He found himself cornered by a woman in a sequined dress who was, apparently, a "social media guru." He saw him, across the crowded room, his gaze locking with the person he had been waiting so long to speak to. He felt a slow, unpleasant burn in his chest.

He shouldered his way through the throng, the music a pounding, insistent rhythm in his ears. He was so close to him. He was standing in front of him. "David?" He asked.

David looked up, his face a mask of polite indifference. “Yes?” His eyes flicked over him, a quick, dismissive appraisal.

He pressed his lips together, feeling a wave of nausea wash over him. "It's, uh, Ben. Ben Miller. We… we went to school together. Kindergarten?" He felt stupid, pathetic. He'd rehearsed this. He'd dreamt about this.

David's face remained blank. "I'm sorry, I don't recall." And with that, he turned and rejoined his group, leaving Ben alone, exposed and humiliated. He felt like his heart was shattering in his chest.