Gemotions

The party was a blur of forced smiles and shallow conversations. He’d only come because his agent insisted. Then, he saw her. A girl with a tattoo of his artwork, "Sunlit Meadow," sprawling across her entire back.

He approached her, a knot forming in his throat. He said nothing. She looked at him quizzically. “I love your work,” she said, her eyes shining with genuine enthusiasm. “It’s beautiful. Who’s the artist?”

His response was mumbled, and he felt the heat rising in his face. He felt like he was invisible. He fled the party, the laughter of the guests ringing in his ears.