Abby

I walk into the TV studio, my heart pounding with excitement and nervous energy. This is it, the day of my interview, and I'm determined to make the most of it.

As I step inside, I'm greeted by a flurry of activity. People are rushing around, setting up cameras, adjusting lights, and making final preparations for the interview.

I feel as if I've just traveled back in time to the day of the cook-off, which feels like it was eons ago by now. At least this time, there are no contestants trying to sabotage me.

Instead, I feel like the star of the show. The security guard lets me through with a warm smile, the interviewer gives me a wave from afar, and a friendly makeup artist approaches me, a makeup kit in hand.

"Hi there, Abby,” she says with a warm smile. “I'll be doing your makeup for the interview. We'll make sure you look your best on camera.”

I nod appreciatively, but ever since the cook-off, I've made a resolve in my mind: I want to be myself. No masks to hide behind.

“Thank you, but Id like to keep it as natural as possible,” I say with a smile, not wanting to be rude. "Just the essentials to make me look decent on camera, please.”

The makeup artist looks a bit puzzled. “Are you sure? We usually go for a more polished look for these interviews. You know, to cover up any imperfections and enhance your features.”

I shake my head, my determination unwavering. “I understand, but I'm not here to look like a doll. I want to be myself, imperfections and all. That's what makes me who I am.”

She hesitates for a moment, then sighs. “Alright, if that's what you want. But just so you know, a little makeup can go a long way in enhancing your natural beauty.”

I appreciate her concern, but I stand my ground. “I appreciate your expertise, but I'm comfortable with my appearance. Let's keep it light, please.”

With a resigned nod, the makeup artist begins her work. She applies a minimal amount of makeup, focusing on evening out my skin tone and adding a hint of color to my lips just so I don't look like a corpse on camera.

I glance at myself in the mirror and smile. It's exactly what I wanted—just a subtle enhancement that doesn't mask my true self.

Once the makeup is done, I thank the makeup artist profusely and head to the set where the interview will take place.

The host, a friendly and charismatic woman named Sarah, greets me with a warm handshake. “Abby, it's a pleasure to have you here. We're excited to hear your story and get your perspective on the recent cook-off incident.”

I return her smile, feeling more at ease now that I'm on set. “Thank you, Sarah. I'm happy to be here and share my experiences.”

The interview begins, and the questions flow smoothly. Sarah asks about my background, the restaurant, and how I got to where I am today.

I feel like I'm beginning to get a hang of this whole television thing, and I'm much more relaxed than before. But then again, there's no studio audience this time around; just me, Sarah, and the camera.

But then, the topic shifts to what I was dreading: the sabotage at the cook-off. Sarah's tone becomes more serious as she asks, “Abby, can you tell us about the incident at the cook-off and how it affected you?”

I take a deep breath. I was expecting this, but it doesn't make this moment easier. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“It... was a challenging moment for sure,” I begin. “The sabotage was unexpected and disheartening. It's disappointing when someone resorts to such tactics in a competition meant to celebrate food and talent.”

Sarah nods in understanding. “And what can you tell us about the person responsible for the sabotage, Daniel? Many viewers are curious about your thoughts on him.”

I pause for a moment, considering my response carefully. I could easily let my anger and frustration out, but then I remember the promise I made to myself. I don’t want to stoop to Daniel's level.

I don't want to be that person. That's not me. That's not Abby.

“I... hope that Daniel will learn from this incident,” I say calmly. “We all make mistakes, and it's important to reflect on our actions and grow from them. I wish him the best in his culinary journey.” Sarah raises an eyebrow, clearly expecting a more dramatic response. “That's a very forgiving attitude, Abby. Some might say you're being too kind.”

I smile, my resolve never wavering. “Kindness and forgiveness can be powerful forces for change. It's important to remember that we're all capable of doing things we shouldn't, but it doesn’t define who we are.”

“That's very sweet, Abby,” Sarah continues with a smile. “And you're right. But I must ask, what does your mysterious sous chef, Ken, think of all of this? He was personally affected by Daniel's sabotage, after all. Accusing someone of assault is very serious.”

For a split second, I freeze. The mention of Karl, disguised as Ken, brings a rush of conflicting emotions. I can't deny that I miss him and wish he could be here, standing by my side.

I manage to compose myself and offer a warm smile. “Ken has chosen not to comment,” I say on the fly. “I'm sorry.”

Sarah looks a little disappointed, but apparently that's not all. “And where is Ken today?”

“Um... Ken had to go back to his hometown to deal with some family matters,” I say, which isn't a total lie. “Unfortunately, he won't be returning to the city anytime soon.”

Sarah's curiosity is piqued. “How did you come to know Ken, Abby?"

Once again, I find myself momentarily lost in thought. Memories of my past marriage to Karl come flooding back, and I can't help but feel a pang of sadness. But I quickly regain my composure, forcing a smile.

“We were old friends,” I lie, my voice steady. “He wanted to lend a helping hand when I needed it the most, and...” I pause, feeling my chest tighten. “And I'm incredibly grateful for his support, and I'll never forget what he did for me.”

As I speak, a small tear glistens in the corner of my eye, threatening to betray my true emotions. Sarah notices it and points it out, her concern evident in her voice. “Abby, are you crying?”

I blink the tear away, my smile never faltering. “No, no,” I assure her, although my is voice slightly shaky. “I'm just feeling emotional, you know? It's been quite a journey, and I couldn't have done it without the support of my friends and loved ones.”

Sarah seems satisfied with my response and continues with the interview, shifting the focus back to my culinary achievements and aspirations.

But as the interview continues, I can't help but feel a sense of emptiness after having to lie about my true relationship with Karl. I wish that he was here, my rock, my partner. But he's not. Not anymore. Our lives have grown apart, and it's time to accept that...

No matter how much it hurts.

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