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. “The true winner

lovable personality…”

will be a skilled

message is clear, and the gleam

as the crowd

meeting mine. “Abby,

Tell us, what has this experience meant to

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

with my name now thanks to my

leaves a hole in my

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

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

in her tiny hand,

my throat, but I push through… because I’m

here, even if I

I’m here for her.

voice surprisingly steady,

As a female chef

have been here. To show that we—” I pause, my

“—that I can stand toe to toe with

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

others. That future female

sure our skills—and our voices—are

also respected.”

ripple through the crowd,

it’s just the sound of

results.

then

His eyes flick to the judges as

out of

catches. Logan’s eyes lock onto

even blink. Instead, his head gives

shakes, and my world seems to tilt

once my champion, now looks on with

briefest of moments before

something, her head inclining toward me in a

trick

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

is there. Instead, I find the little girl

strength from her innocence, her

pause hangs for what feels like an

as though drawing it out for dramatic