Gemotions

The dance floor throbbed, the bass line a physical assault. Michael clutched his beer, the cold seeping through his skin. Around him, people laughed, danced, celebrated. His smile felt fixed, a mask he couldn't take off. The heat, the noise, the sheer exuberance of it all – it was overwhelming.

He glanced at his watch. Still too early. He had to make an appearance at both parties. Ethan's, the arcade. Then, Chloe's, the karaoke bar. He knew the schedule off by heart, each step a carefully choreographed dance of avoidance.

His stomach churned. He excused himself, navigating through the crowd. He needed air, space, something to quiet the incessant, frantic pounding in his head. The weight of his own indecision was almost unbearable.