Gemotions

The playbill. She saw her play, her words, her vision. But the director's credit was… not hers. She felt an icy grip around her heart.

She stood in the lobby of the theatre, unable to move. The bright lights seemed harsh, the chatter of the audience grating. Every face was a stranger. Each person seemed to be a silent judge.

She felt a wave of nausea. Her hands, clammy and cold, clenched into fists. She turned and fled, needing to be anywhere else. The scent of popcorn and anticipation followed her, a mocking reminder of her stolen moment.