Gemotions

"No," Leo whispered, his voice barely audible above the rhythmic clinking of ice in his glass. He’d been so excited, imagining the moment when he walked into the venue, to the cheers and laughter. Now, the venue was dark, the tables empty, the band nowhere to be seen. He had worked so hard, all the phone calls, all the planning. He looked around the empty bar and the bartender gave him a look of sympathy.

He took a long swallow of his drink, the alcohol burning a path down his throat. He’d envisioned the faces of his colleagues, their surprise and genuine joy. The empty chair beside him only emphasized his solitude. He wanted to scream, to lash out, but the words caught in his throat, replaced by a suffocating pressure behind his sternum.