Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

Abby

The stage lights feel even more blinding now from the tears in my eyes. A

makeup artist darts around, dabbing my face with powder to cover the streaks

from crying. In more ways than one, I’m glad this hell is almost over; right now,

I’m just looking forward to getting this damn makeup off.

Finally, the director counts down from three, and it feels as though we’ve done

this a million times before. The crowd cheers, the music plays, the announcer

struts across the stage. And me? I’m standing here like a statue, my smile just

as fake as my manicured eyelashes.

Enter title…

Daniel stands next to me, shoulder to shoulder, and I can feel the hatred

emanating off of him. He stands tall and proud, the perfect picture of arrogance.

He doesn’t say a word to me, because he doesn’t need to. He already said

everything he needed to say earlier. He got his digs in, made his sharp words

stab me to my core. There’s no point now.

I can sense the satisfaction coursing through his veins as he stands beside me,

the realization that he won—not just in the competition, but in life—washing over

both of us. In just a few minutes, he’ll get exactly what he wants. Not only a

trophy, but to beat a woman down to nothing.

The announcer turns to Daniel first, his voice echoing across the studio. “Daniel,

you’ve shown immense skill throughout this competition. As we come to a close,

how are you feeling about your performance?”

Daniel’s lips twist into a smile that doesn’t even come close to reaching his

eyes.

without skipping a beat. “The true winner

than just a lovable personality…”

“He will be

clear, and the gleam in

as

eyes meeting mine. “Abby, you’ve become a

us, what has this experience

gaze lifts to the audience, to the sea of faces that seem

are fewer signs with my name

hole in my

then, there she is—the little girl in the third row with her chef’s

Her eyes are just as wide and bright as ever, and she still

her tiny hand, a

the lump in my throat,

I’m here, even if I

I’m here for her.

start, my voice surprisingly steady, “has

As a female chef in this incredible, challenging field,

to have been here. To show

can stand toe to toe with

thick. “And

That

our voices—are

also respected.”

through the crowd, a

just the sound of anticipation as everyone

results.

voice then cuts

His eyes flick to the judges as he

of his

lock

He doesn’t smile, doesn’t even blink. Instead, his head gives the

tilt for what feels

my champion, now looks on

eyes for the briefest of moments before she leans

inclining toward me in a nod

trick of

can’t look at Daniel, can’t afford to see the

I find the little girl in the crowd, her eyes wide with

strength from her innocence,

for what feels

it out for dramatic