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.

skipping a beat. “The true winner today will

than just a lovable personality…”

will

is clear, and the gleam

as the

his eyes meeting mine. “Abby, you’ve

this competition. Tell us, what has this experience

the sea of faces that seem to blur together

my name now thanks to my failures,

hole in

there she is—the little girl in the third

wide and bright as ever, and

in her tiny hand,

lump in my throat, but I push through…

even if

I’m here for her.

start, my voice surprisingly steady, “has been

journey. As a female chef

to have been here. To show that we—”

toe

a breath, the air tasting thick. “And maybe, just maybe,”

here will inspire others. That future female chefs

our skills—and our voices—are

also respected.”

a ripple through the crowd, a murmur

the sound of

results.

then cuts through the

to

of his

eyes lock onto

even blink. Instead, his head

tilt for what

my champion, now looks on with a cool detachment.

for the briefest of moments before she

toward me in

trick of

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

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

strength from her innocence,

for what feels like an

speaks, as though drawing it out for dramatic effect.