Gemotions

Sweat beaded on Elara’s forehead as she clutched the crumpled ticket in her palm. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drummer keeping time with the pre-show chatter. This was it. The local bar, a place she hadn't visited in years, was hosting a newcomer. A newcomer who was performing *her* song, the one she’d poured her soul into. She felt a tickle in her throat, a prelude to a cough she fought down. She needed to breathe, but the air in the packed venue felt thick, almost suffocating.

She found a dark corner booth and sank into the worn vinyl. The scent of stale beer and spilled popcorn hung heavy in the air. Anticipation pulsed through her, an unsettling buzz that made her fingers tap against the table. Every creak of the door, every ripple of laughter, sent a jolt of alarm through her.