Gemotions

The elevator doors slid open, and Ethan strode out, his stride purposeful. He ran a hand through his already perfect hair, smoothing it down. The invitation had arrived out of the blue, but the confirmation was here. His work was being exhibited. It was almost too much.

He'd spent years perfecting his technique, honing his craft. The quiet hours in his studio, the late nights, the moments of self-doubt. Now it was all coming to fruition. He beamed, a wide and giddy grin.

As he entered the grand hall, he was hit by a wave of pure elation. His photographs, framed and expertly lit, lined the walls. He felt a surge of energy.