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

just a lovable personality…” he sneers subtly, casting a

“He will

is clear, and the gleam in

as

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

us, what has

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

fewer signs with my name now thanks

hole in

there she is—the little girl in the third row with her

and bright as

sign in her tiny hand, a

the lump in my throat, but I

here, even if I don’t

I’m here for her.

I start, my voice surprisingly steady,

female chef in

To show that we—” I pause, my

stand toe to

the air tasting thick. “And

others. That future

skills—and our voices—are not only

also respected.”

ripple through the crowd, a murmur of acknowledgment,

the sound of anticipation

results.

announcer’s voice then cuts through the

to the judges

of his

catches. Logan’s eyes lock

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

to tilt

my champion, now looks on with a cool detachment.

the briefest of moments before she

me in a nod so

trick of the

can’t look at Daniel,

Instead, I find the little girl in the crowd,

draw strength from her innocence, her belief in

winner is…” The pause hangs for what

as though drawing it out for dramatic effect.