Gemotions

A chill snaked up Leo's spine as he surveyed the gallery. His paintings, *his* vibrant, chaotic canvases, were plastered across the stark white walls. He hadn't authorized this. He hadn't even finished the damn series. A knot tightened in his stomach. The champagne flute felt heavy in his hand. He took a sip, the bubbles doing nothing to ease the pressure.

He caught the eye of a woman in a crimson dress, beaming at one of his pieces. "Magnificent!" she gushed, gesturing expansively. Leo forced a smile, murmuring something noncommittal. His gaze darted around, searching for a familiar face, a friendly face, someone who understood the gut-churning dread that was now consuming him.

The gallery owner, a slick man with a forced smile, approached. "Leo, my friend! Wonderful, isn't it? The buzz is phenomenal." He clapped Leo on the back, a gesture that felt more like a physical threat. Leo’s jaw clenched. The buzz? He hadn't heard *any* buzz. Just the echoing silence of a nightmare unfolding.