Gemotions

The concert hall felt vast and unfamiliar to Clara. Every corner, every sound, seemed to mock her. The music had started, a crescendo of strings, but it was like listening to the song in another language.

“Didn’t we agree the violinist was awful?” Ethan nudged her.

Clara turned to him, her face a mask of confusion. “Awful? No, she was phenomenal! We even got a picture with her backstage.” She pictured herself in the backstage area, but the image felt blurry.

Ethan chuckled, a low, dismissive sound. "We left halfway through. Said she was off-key. You were mortified." He gestured toward his water.

Clara’s breath hitched. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. She fumbled for her phone in her bag, and searched for a photo. There was nothing. Her heart hammered against her ribs. The concert hall started to close in on her.