Gemotions

Rain lashed against the gallery window as Amelia stared. The girl, no older than twenty, was practically glowing. She’d been beaming, pointing at the intricate floral tattoo snaking up her arm. Amelia's floral print, lifted directly from her latest series. Her stomach clenched, a sudden, unfamiliar pressure. The champagne flute slipped from her grasp, shattering on the polished floor.

Amelia's breath hitched. A tremor ran through her, starting in her fingertips and spreading outwards. She wanted to scream, to run. But she just stood there, frozen, the bubbly scent of the spilled drink a nauseating reminder of the supposed celebration.

"Isn't it beautiful?" the girl asked, her smile unwavering. Amelia swallowed, a bitter taste rising in her throat. "Yes," she managed, her voice a strained whisper, before turning and fleeing towards the echoing emptiness of the back room.