Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

Chatper 240

Abby

The air in the studio feels dense with anticipation as Karl and I walk back to our

station together. The crowd murmurs as they become aware of the implications:

that only Daniel and I are returning, and Bryan, the third contestant, is nowhere

to be found despite the fact that the winners of the second round were never

officially announced.

“You okay?” Karl murmurs as we take our spots, standing next to each other

with our shoulders touching.

I nod and shrug at the same time, a sense of guilt and trepidation washing over

me. “Yes. Sort of. Maybe. I don’t know,” I murmur, clearing my throat subtly.

Enter title…

Karl shoots me a confused look from beneath his blue surgical mask. “What

does that mean?” he asks, worry lacing his voice.

I can’t contain my sigh. “It means that, if it weren’t for Bryan’s mother dying, I

wouldn’t be standing here right now,” I say quietly. “And I’m not sure how to feel

about it, if I’m being honest.”

Karl is silent for a moment before he speaks. “Listen, Abby, I know it’s a shock.

But—”

Suddenly, before he can finish, the director holds up his fingers and begins

counting down from three. The stage falls silent, and the cameras begin rolling.

makes his way across the stage, his

was before. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he starts, “before we proceed

have an announcement

are curled tightly around the edge of my station. I

me, intense and unyielding, even as we face the

prove me right; his eyes are still glinting

sort of glee.

joining us for

live audience. “Due to a personal

chosen to withdraw.”

turns into a low hum, the audience

“Bryan’s mother has passed away. Let

moment of silence.”

the crowd, I feel

due to a death. A wave of guilt washes

belong here after my performance in the second

throat and continues. “Now… the

of skill,” he announces. The atmosphere

excitement winding through the air again. “Our

dish that

black truffle butter

My heart lurches.

That dish. My dish.

until my hands moved with the memory

elusive truffles as if they were treasure. It

like fate.

murmur, my

a little closer. “I thought

my fingers gripping the edge of the counter even harder

I thought

over the microphone

moment

finalists have shown exceptional skill to get this far,” he booms,

the noise of the crowd. “And now, they will face their

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