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.

a beat. “The true

just a lovable personality…” he sneers subtly,

at me. “He will be

the gleam

up into my cheeks as the crowd applauds. The announcer

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

competition. Tell us, what has this

to the sea of faces

my name

a hole in my

girl in the third row with her chef’s hat

just as wide and bright as ever, and

hand, a grin spread across

feel the lump in my throat, but I push through… because

even if

I’m here for her.

competition,” I start, my voice surprisingly

female chef in

happy to have been here. To show that we—” I pause,

toe

tasting thick. “And maybe, just maybe,” I

will inspire others. That future female chefs will

skills—and our voices—are not

also respected.”

the crowd, a murmur of acknowledgment, of

just the sound of anticipation as everyone waits

results.

then cuts through the

flick to the judges

out of

catches. Logan’s eyes lock onto mine, his expression an

even blink. Instead,

my world seems to tilt for

once my champion, now looks on

my eyes for the briefest of moments before

me in

a trick of

trembling. I can’t look at Daniel, can’t

is there. Instead, I find the little girl in the crowd, her eyes wide

strength from her innocence, her belief in

pause hangs for what feels like an

out for dramatic effect. And then,