Gemotions

The party was in full swing, but Jessica was trapped. She forced a smile, but it felt brittle, unnatural. The reason? The congratulatory pats on the back she was receiving for *her* article, now credited to the man standing across the room, grinning widely.

She clutched her champagne flute, her fingers biting into the glass. The bubbly felt flat on her tongue. Each forced conversation, each insincere compliment, felt like another weight pressing down on her.

She excused herself, claiming a need for air. Stepping outside, the cool night air offered little relief. She leaned against a wall, the rough brick scraping against her back. The world seemed to tilt on its axis.