Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

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.

way across the stage, his face more

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

have an

tightly around the edge of my station. I

even as we face the crowd. A

serves to prove me right; his eyes are still glinting

sort of glee.

be joining us for the final round,” the

audience. “Due to

chosen to withdraw.”

turns into a low hum,

announcer continues. “Bryan’s mother has passed away. Let

moment of silence.”

silence stretches over the crowd, I feel my head bow all on its own.

strange, being a finalist only due to

knowing that I don’t belong here after my performance in the second

his throat and

the biggest test of skill,” he announces. The atmosphere seems

of tension and excitement winding through

be preparing a dish that is both intricate

black truffle butter and

My heart lurches.

That dish. My dish.

until my hands moved with the memory of it, the

truffles as if they were treasure.

coincidence. It feels like fate. It feels like a

my breath

leans a little closer.

I hiss, my fingers gripping the edge of the counter even harder

I

booming over the microphone

the moment

have shown exceptional skill to get this

“And now,