Gemotions

The gala was a disaster. Every guest seemed to have a copy of “Victoria Sterling: The Rise and Fall of a Socialite.” She could feel their eyes on her, dissecting her every move, judging her every word. She felt exposed, vulnerable, as if the very air she breathed was contaminated.

She forced a smile, making small talk, but each syllable felt like a lie. The room spun, the lights blurring.

She excused herself and went out onto the balcony, gasping for breath. The city lights twinkled below, a vast and indifferent sea, yet even there, the feeling of being enclosed remained.