Gemotions

He kept to the edges of the dance floor, a shadow flitting through the happy chaos. The music, meant to be an invitation to join in the revelry, was instead a relentless, throbbing drumbeat of fear. He felt the phantom touch of her hand on his, the ghost of her laughter in the air.

He avoided the couple's table. To her, he would be a villain. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it. He felt that everyone was watching him. He could feel their judgement. He felt vulnerable.

He found himself constantly checking behind him, anticipating a sudden confrontation. Each passing conversation seemed charged with hidden meaning, each shared glance a conspiratorial gesture. He considered leaving. But that, too, felt like a surrender.