Gemotions

The invitation felt heavy in Elara’s hand. She reread the glittery script: "You're Invited to Liam's 25th Birthday Bash!" Below, in smaller print, the date. The same date as hers. Her stomach clenched. A wave of heat washed over her, and she felt a sudden need to sit down, even though she was already perched on the edge of her bed.

Her fingers traced the edge of her own invitation, tucked under her pillow. It felt flimsy in comparison, handmade with pressed flowers and a deliberately folksy font. Did Liam even remember she was turning twenty-five too? Of course he did. He just didn't care.

“Maybe I should just cancel,” she murmured, the words feeling alien in her own ears. The thought brought with it a dizzying sense of freefall, a feeling of being untethered. She gripped the blanket, knuckles white. The party was supposed to be at the art gallery, a space she'd meticulously curated. Now, the vision felt…wrong. All wrong.