America’s Next Top Loser Model Chef

I think I am failing my country. Sweat runs down my brow and into my eye, sliding off my nose taking mascara with it and into the pan of herb-crusted skinless chicken breast, sizzling in big black globs that smell like failure.

The cameras are everywhere. My lipstick smudged, my hand burnt. The cameras are everywhere. My love handles exposed because this ridiculous outfit keeps riding up. And the cameras are everywhere.

At the rose ceremony, I’ve made it to the top three, and all I can do is bawl and sniffle and think thank you, oh, thank you Jesus.

***
Title by: Danni Alloy
Story by: Jeremy

1 person likes this story.

Undo

Related posts:

1. Burlesque Freedom
2. Rocket Ship Baby, On the Tree Top
3. So you want a million dollars?
4. Destiny
5. there are jellybeans in my pocket