Gemotions

The gallery lights felt suddenly too bright, making Elara squint. Her breath hitched as she stared at *Untitled 3*, splashed across a wall, her name scrawled below. The painting, a private experiment in texture, was supposed to stay tucked away in her studio, unfinished. Now, strangers were staring at it, murmuring opinions she didn't want to hear. She tugged at the hem of her too-tight dress, the fabric clinging uncomfortably to her skin.

She wanted to melt into the shadows, disappear amongst the chattering crowd. A woman with a perfectly coiffed bob pointed at the piece and said something to her companion. Elara felt a flush crawl up her neck, the heat radiating outwards. She quickly took a sip of her champagne, the bubbles doing little to ease the turmoil in her stomach.

She considered fleeing, but the thought of leaving her work exposed, vulnerable, was almost worse. She stood rooted to the spot, a feeling of exposure washing over her.