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.

he says without skipping a beat. “The

just a lovable personality…” he sneers subtly,

me. “He will be a skilled

the gleam in his eye is sharp,

creeps up into my cheeks as the

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

competition. Tell us, what has

to the audience, to the sea of faces that

signs with my name now thanks to

leaves a hole in my

there she is—the little girl in the third row

Her eyes are just as wide and bright as ever, and she still holds up

sign in her tiny hand,

lump in my throat, but I push

I’m here, even if I don’t

I’m here for her.

I start, my voice

As a female chef in

to have been here. To show that

can stand toe to toe with

thick. “And maybe,

here will inspire others. That

our skills—and our voices—are not only recognized,

also respected.”

a ripple through the crowd, a murmur

sound of anticipation as

results.

announcer’s voice then cuts through the

is…” His eyes flick to the judges

out of

Logan’s eyes lock onto

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

world seems to tilt for what feels like the millionth time

my champion, now looks on

for the briefest of

toward me in a

trick of the

can’t look at Daniel, can’t afford

little girl in the

I draw strength from her

hangs for what feels like an eternity

speaks, as though drawing it out for dramatic effect.