Gemotions

The rooftop bar, with its panoramic city views and upbeat music, was no longer appealing. The twinkling lights, the rhythmic pulse of the music, the laughter of the other couples - all seemed to be mocking her. The man, who had seemed charming an hour ago, was now repeating lines she'd heard just last week. Same jokes, same anecdotes, same everything.

She picked at the olive in her martini, unable to swallow. The taste of the alcohol was suddenly bitter. The carefully curated persona, the charm, the shared 'interests' – they were all lies.

She excused herself and went to find an open space. The cool night air felt like a balm on her skin.