Gemotions

The confetti gun felt heavy in Maya's hand, almost a physical burden. She’d spent weeks, *weeks*, planning this, and for what? The text message, delivered with cruel precision, read: "Party cancelled. Something urgent came up." Her stomach twisted, a cold knot forming in her gut. She’d imagined the look on Liam’s face, the genuine surprise, the sheer delight. Now, that image, once so vivid, felt like a painful taunt.

She stalked through the apartment, kicking at a stray balloon. The decorations, once symbols of her affection, now seemed gaudy and ridiculous, mocking her efforts. She glared at the cake, still pristine in its box. It felt like a betrayal. Why couldn’t they have told her earlier?

The vibrant colors of the decorations seemed to pulse with a mocking energy. She grabbed a handful of streamers and ripped them apart, the sound strangely satisfying. She wanted, desperately, for something to be broken.