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.

personality…” he sneers subtly,

at me. “He will be a skilled

the gleam in his eye is

my cheeks as the crowd applauds.

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

competition. Tell us, what has this experience meant to

to the sea of faces that seem to blur

fewer signs with my name now thanks to my failures, and

hole in my

is—the little girl in the third row with her

as wide and bright as ever, and she still holds up

sign in her tiny hand, a grin spread across

can feel the lump in my throat, but

I’m here, even if I

I’m here for her.

competition,” I start, my voice surprisingly steady,

female chef

here. To show that we—” I pause,

stand toe

tasting thick.

That future female chefs will push

skills—and our voices—are

also respected.”

a ripple through the crowd, a murmur of acknowledgment,

it’s just the sound of anticipation as everyone waits for

results.

then

His eyes flick to the judges as he

of

catches. Logan’s eyes lock onto

even blink. Instead, his head

to tilt for what feels like the

champion, now looks

my eyes for the briefest of

head inclining toward me in

been a trick

I can’t look at Daniel, can’t afford to

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

her

The pause hangs for what feels like an eternity

drawing it out for dramatic