Gemotions

The email had been cryptic, promising a 'special opportunity'. He should have known. He should have refused. But the allure of recognition, the fleeting hope of validation, had been too strong. Now, his stomach twisted with icy dread.

His vision swam as he looked around. The room itself seemed to be shrinking, the walls pushing in on him. His breath came in shallow, rapid bursts. He felt utterly exposed, vulnerable. His creations were being discussed, dissected, and admired. He wanted to shout, to scream, to make the whole thing stop.

He noticed a critic he knew. A man who was usually indifferent to his work. The man was walking towards him. He wanted to run, and the impulse was sudden and raw.