Gemotions

"Okay, okay," Olivia murmured, picking at a loose thread on her jeans. She sat slumped in a chair, a half-empty glass of water on the table in front of her. The taste of the tap water was metallic. The room was a mess, scattered with party supplies. Her carefully laid plans were now a confusing jumble.

She couldn't seem to focus. Her mind raced, jumping from one potential problem to the next. The caterer? The music? The guest list? Everything seemed to be falling apart.

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the noise, the pressure, the overwhelming sense of dread.