Gemotions

He’d almost tripped over the damn balloons, still deflated and lying pathetically in the hallway. Liam kicked one, sending it skittering across the polished floor. Then, he spat on it. The text message had been brief, brutal: "Plans changed." No explanation, no apology, just...gone. He’d spent a week curating the perfect playlist, buying his favourite cigars, and arranging a ridiculous amount of fairy lights in the garden. He grabbed a lighter and set fire to his neatly arranged invitation. The dance, the laughter, the stupid singing. All gone.