Gemotions

The concert hall was a symphony of sounds, a cacophony of chatter, rustling programs, and the distant hum of instruments warming up. Clara navigated the crowded foyer, her breath catching in her throat. She spotted him, across the room, leaning against a pillar, his familiar profile illuminated by the warm glow of the chandeliers.

She’d been so excited, so certain this would be the key. David, her childhood companion, was a musician. She and he used to play in the forest all the time. She remembered the trees being the only audience to their impromptu performances. She’d even managed to get tickets to his concert. But when she’d approached him earlier, he’d tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" He'd asked, with polite bewilderment. Now, she felt a strange pressure in her stomach. She felt as though the world was squeezing her, her lungs struggling to pull in enough air. She closed her eyes for a moment, the thrum of the music somehow making the sensation worse. She fought the urge to flee.