Gemotions

The gallery was packed, but Liam felt isolated. He moved through the crowd, a forced smile plastered on his face. Everyone was admiring his work, the landscapes he'd poured his heart into. But a shadow hung over the celebration, the knowledge of the tattoo.

He touched his own arm, a reflex. The image of his painting, inked on a stranger’s shoulder, was imprinted on his mind. He found himself unable to meet the eyes of the other guests, their genuine admiration a source of discomfort.

He slipped out onto the balcony, the cool night air a welcome change. The city lights twinkled below, but the beauty offered no solace. He lit a cigarette, the ember a small, angry spark. He felt an ache he couldn't name.