Gemotions

“Another round, please!” The cheerful request grated on Fiona’s nerves. She forced a smile, though it felt like a grotesque parody. The bar was packed, people were celebrating. They were all drinking “The Crimson Comet,” the cocktail she’d created. Her ex-boyfriend, now the bartender, was getting all the credit.

She felt the familiar thrum of unease in her ears. Her hands were unsteady as she cleaned the counter, wiping away the spilled drinks.

Each time her ex-boyfriend looked at her, she saw the smirk on his face. She needed to leave, to get away from the music, the laughter, everything. She couldn't breathe.