Gemotions

The gala buzzed around Ethan, a cacophony of clinking glasses and hushed conversations. He clutched his champagne flute so tightly his fingers ached. He was standing near the man of the hour, the legendary Victor Sterling, whose literary prowess he had idolized for years. Now, Ethan had the crushing proof that Sterling had stolen from him.

He felt the unwelcome thrum of unease in his gut. The perfectly manicured lawn of the estate seemed to sway. The polite smiles of the other guests felt like a judging gaze.

He took a large gulp of the champagne. He considered approaching Sterling, confronting him, but his tongue felt tied, and his legs were heavy. He was caught.