Gemotions

The weight of the room settled on her shoulders. Every casual smile, every polite nod felt like a test. She had to be *perfect*. She'd spent hours on her appearance, hours crafting the perfect facade. She was ready.

She kept to the outer edges of the crowd, avoiding any potential intersection. She found herself watching the door, a slow burn of unease consuming her.

Her breath caught. He was here, now chatting with their mutual friend, Mark. She took a deep breath, fighting the urge to flee. She forced herself to smile at a passing waiter.