Abby My body feels as though it doesn’t belong to me as I stalk to the breakroom. I feel like a puppet on strings that have been cut, like my limbs are made of lead and my body might give out from beneath me at any moment. When I’m alone in the breakroom once again, though, I can’t contain my fu
Abby “Your sous chef… I saw him trying to bribe the judges earlier.” Daniel’s words land on me like a lead weight. Karl? Bribing the judges? He wouldn’t do something like that. When would he have even had the time? Why wouldn’t he have told me? My gaze locks with Daniel’s, and disbelief tighte
Then, Karl’s brown eyes almost seem to gloss over, and he shakes his head. “No,” he says, the denial in his voice immediate and almost instinctive. “I didn’t try to bribe the judges. Daniel is lying.” But even as he speaks I can see the flicker, the slightest shift in his eyes that betrays him. My
Karl The second round had left a bitter taste in my mouth. Seeing the way that the judge, Logan, tore into Abby on live television left me feeling maybe a little too overprotective, but I couldn’t just stand idly by while Abby had her integrity ripped apart on stage. I told Abby I needed to take
Abby As Karl speaks, my fingers worry the hem of my white chef’s coat, now no longer pristine but splattered with sauce and tiny stains and the remains of haphazardly cooked meals. It feels like a perfect representation of my inner world right now: once untarnished and lily-white, but now stained
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.
Abby My apartment is dark when I finally get home tonight. It still smells faintly of fresh paint from the new coat that my landlord put on, but I can still sense the lingering scent of smoke, too. I decide to avoid the harsh glow of the kitchen lights as I plop the wine glass that’s been tucked
Abby A curse slips out of my mouth as I lurch across my living room. My fingers are clumsy as I fumble with the door handle, but finally, I yank it open. The porch light filters in, revealing Karl, his figure imposing even in the darkness of the street outside. “What are you doing here?” I’m mor