“I just can’t believe this is happening,” I say, my voice breaking a little. “This is like some sort of nightmare.” “Yeah, it is,” Anton agrees, the exhaustion evident in his voice. “The timing couldn’t be worse.” The timing is beyond terrible; it’s catastrophic. I close my eyes for a moment, ta
Karl The incessant buzzing of my phone’s alarm is drowned out by the pounding inside my head—a lingering reminder of last night’s… festivities. Why did I think that having one more whiskey was a good idea? I was already pretty drunk last night by the time I got home, but I couldn’t stop thinking
“Abby? What’s going on? Shouldn’t you be at the studio?” I ask, blinking in confusion. Did I sleep through the whole day or something? Did I miss the cook-off? She pushes past me, her eyes scanning me from head to toe like a worried mother as she makes her way into my apartment. “Karl, you’re not
“Look, I know how you feel,” he says, growing exasperated himself. “But with the way my approval ratings are dropping right now in my pack, if word got out that I was working as ‘just a sous chef’ for my ex-wife, people would go feral. It would be a nightmare. For both of us.” “You’re overthinking
Abby Five minutes feels like an eternity. I pace Karl’s kitchen as he quickly gets ready in the other room, not even taking a moment to take in the fact that this is Karl’s apartment, and I’m here for the first time ever. The whole place is awash with his scent in an almost intoxicating way, the
Abby We exit hair and makeup, and I can’t help but feel like an impostor beneath this mask of perfectly-caked makeup. Just like yesterday, it feels like an uncomfortable facade, a porcelain mask covering the real Abby. I can’t help but wonder to myself: why is this amount of makeup necessary for
Karl chuckles. The production assistant is waving her clipboard frantically, checking her watch like we’re about to count down to an explosion. Karl takes my hand and we run down the hall, bursting through the doors to the stage. The assistant gestures to where our station is, all the way on the oth
Abby The stage lights are blinding, but I try to focus on the announcer standing across from me. His voice reverberates through the microphone as he begins his script. “Ladies and Gentlemen… Welcome to the annual Alpha party cooking competition! I’m your host, Heinrich Williams, and today I’