Abby

The stage lights are blinding, but I try to focus on the announcer standing across

from me. His voice reverberates through the microphone as he begins his script.

“Ladies and Gentlemen… Welcome to the annual Alpha party cooking

competition! I’m your host, Heinrich Williams, and today I’m proud to

announce…”

One by one, the contestants and judges are introduced. Their faces are

projected onto giant screens that hang above us, and with each announcement,

the audience cheers and applauds excitedly. The announcer then asks each

Enter title…

person a couple of questions, giving them time to promote themselves before

the show begins.

As I’m waiting for my turn, though, all I can feel is crippling, soul-crushing fear.

How do I look? How will the audience respond? What will I say when it’s my turn

all I can think is that maybe if

time this morning, maybe I wouldn’t be

stands beside me, steady as a rock. When

brown eyes glinting in

about it

to have him here. I thought that it would

my side, but this feels like a happy

his presence,

in a

the announcer booms, pulling me back to reality, “a chef

her interview yesterday. With her

words about inclusivity in

welcome to Abby!”

into cheers, louder and more excitedly than I

have ever imagined.

I blink in surprise.

actual signs with my name on them, being held up by people in

word ‘Abby’ is written in

“Go Abby!” and

a signal for me to step forward. My shoes

floor as I move stiffly toward the microphone, my heart

now in a different way

Do

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