Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the art gallery seemed to mock her. She’d always admired Lucas’s “freelance photography” as he called it. Then, at the opening of the exhibition, she saw the artist, his name plastered across the wall. It was him, the very same man.

Her breath hitched, and she felt a tremor in her hands. The paintings, once beautiful, now seemed to twist and contort before her eyes. The conversations they had previously held now felt like a cruel joke.

The crowd around her buzzed, celebrating the work of someone she thought she knew. She felt a profound sense of isolation, an unmooring that left her feeling unsteady on her feet. She began to edge toward the exit.