Gemotions

The champagne flute felt heavy in Amelia's hand, a tiny weight mirroring the one in her chest. She scanned the ballroom, the pastel decorations and forced cheerfulness grating on her. *They* were bound to be here. Sarah, the bride, had been friends with both of them. Amelia subtly shifted, her eyes darting across the crowd, cataloging the potential dangers. Her jaw tightened; another forced smile plastered on her face. This was going to be a long evening.

The band started a particularly saccharine ballad, and Amelia excused herself from her table. She needed air, or maybe just a distraction. Outside, on the patio, the cool evening breeze offered some relief. She leaned against the railing, watching the city lights twinkle. It was almost a soothing view, almost. Then, a familiar voice drifted over to her: "Didn't expect to see you here."