Gemotions

The opening piano chords were pure. Perfect. Then *she* began to sing. The air in the grand concert hall suddenly felt thin, suffocating. The polished veneer of the stage seemed to shimmer with an oily sheen. Every perfectly coiffed head in the audience became a blur, a collection of judgmental eyes.

He buried his face in his hands, wishing he could somehow disappear, be swallowed by the plush velvet of his seat. His stomach twisted, a painful knot that refused to untangle. He wanted to scream, to run, to flee this opulent prison of his own making. He managed to force himself to sit through a few more painful bars, but then he bolted, ignoring the curious stares as he slipped out the back.