Gemotions

The music was too loud, a pounding, relentless rhythm that seemed to vibrate in her teeth. Sarah scanned the room, each smiling face a fresh offense. Liam, the center of attention, beamed, oblivious to the simmering resentment directed his way. Her own party, meticulously planned, now felt like a ghost, a forgotten echo.

Her fingers traced the rim of her champagne glass, the cool glass a meager comfort. The bubbles seemed to mock her, rising and bursting, just like her carefully constructed plans. She felt a burning in her chest, a physical manifestation of the anger.

She excused herself from the conversation, pushing past the laughing, boisterous crowd. The bathroom, the quiet, the darkness, beckoned, a temporary refuge.