Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

Abby

We exit hair and makeup, and I can’t help but feel like an impostor beneath this

mask of perfectly-caked makeup. Just like yesterday, it feels like an

uncomfortable facade, a porcelain mask covering the real Abby. I can’t help but

wonder to myself: why is this amount of makeup necessary for a cooking show?

Shouldn’t my abilities be judged, not my face?

I glance over at Karl as we walk out of the hair and makeup room. He’s still

wearing his blue surgical mask, but the makeup that I can see on his face is

much lighter than mine.

“Geez, Abby,” he says as he looks at me. “You like like a…”

Enter title…

“Don’t,” I hiss. I don’t want to think about it, not now. Instead, I focus my

my chef’s jacket. The fabric is stiff and a little

to look ‘camera-perfect’, much

worn down after years of

that?” Karl offers, his own jacket

it,” I snap, my nerves fraying.

I don’t ‘got it’. Please

jacket with a precision that borders

says, stepping back to

don’t feel perfect; I feel like I’m about to come apart at the

a production assistant yells from down the hall, waving

clipboard frantically.

The weight of the

in sous chefs—crashes down on

heart is pounding,

stupid uniform is too stiff and itchy. I

body right

can’t do this, Karl,” I say, my voice quivering. “I’m not ready. I didn’t

familiarize myself with my station yet like

to compete?”

my trembling hands into his.