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

just a lovable personality…” he sneers subtly,

at me. “He will be a skilled

and the gleam in

my cheeks as the crowd

to me, his eyes meeting mine. “Abby,

this competition. Tell us, what has

the audience, to the sea of faces that seem to blur together

There are fewer signs with my name now thanks to my

leaves a hole

is—the little girl in the third row with her chef’s hat falling

and bright as ever, and she still holds

tiny hand, a grin spread across her

throat, but I push through…

I’m here, even if I

I’m here for her.

voice surprisingly steady, “has

female chef

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

can stand toe to toe with

thick. “And maybe, just

That future

our voices—are not only

also respected.”

the crowd, a murmur

sound

results.

voice then cuts through the

to the judges as

out of his

breath catches. Logan’s eyes lock

He doesn’t smile, doesn’t even blink. Instead, his

seems to tilt for what feels like the millionth

champion, now looks on with a cool detachment.

eyes for the briefest of moments before she leans toward

me in

a trick

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

is there. Instead, I find the little girl in the

I draw strength from her

The pause hangs for what feels like an eternity

though drawing it out for dramatic effect. And then,