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

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

they put it through to look ‘camera-perfect’, much unlike my

comfortably worn down after

that?” Karl offers, his own jacket

snap, my nerves fraying. But after another failed attempt,

maybe I don’t ‘got it’.

button my jacket with a precision that

says, stepping back to examine

I feel like I’m about

minutes!” a production assistant yells from down the hall, waving

clipboard frantically.

minutes. The weight of the entire morning—the mad

change in sous chefs—crashes down

is pounding, this damn makeup is

this stupid uniform is too stiff and itchy. I feel

own body

my voice quivering. “I’m

with my station yet like everyone else. How

to compete?”

Karl says, taking my