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.

says without skipping a beat. “The

a lovable personality…” he sneers subtly, casting a

me. “He will be a

is clear, and the gleam

cheeks as the crowd applauds. The announcer

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

what has this

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

fewer signs with my name now thanks to

leaves a hole in my

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

just as wide and

sign in her tiny hand, a grin

throat,

here, even if

I’m here for her.

my voice surprisingly steady, “has been

chef in this

here. To show that

can stand toe to toe

tasting thick.

That future female chefs will push

skills—and our voices—are not

also respected.”

a ripple through the crowd,

Or maybe it’s just the sound

results.

voice then

His eyes flick to the judges as he pulls a

of

lock onto mine, his expression an

doesn’t even blink. Instead, his head

shakes, and my world seems to tilt

my champion, now looks on with

of moments

inclining toward me

a trick

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

there. Instead, I find the little girl

I draw strength from her

hangs for

as though drawing it out for dramatic effect.