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.

announcer makes his way across the stage, his face more somber

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

we have an announcement

edge of my station. I can

on me, intense and unyielding, even as we face the crowd.

at him only serves to prove me right;

sort of glee.

be joining us for the final round,” the announcer

“Due to a personal tragedy,

chosen to withdraw.”

low hum, the audience looking around at one

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

moment of silence.”

the crowd, I feel my head

strange, being a finalist only due to a death. A wave of guilt washes

that I don’t belong here after my

clears his throat and

he announces. The atmosphere seems to shift,

of tension and excitement winding through the air

be preparing a dish that

with black truffle

My heart lurches.

That dish. My dish.

one I’d practiced until my hands moved with the memory of it, the one

I had hunted down those elusive truffles as if they

like fate. It feels like a

I murmur, my breath hitching

little closer. “I thought they

the edge of the counter

I thought so,

voice booming over the microphone brings

the moment at

exceptional skill to

of the crowd. “And now, they will face