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My hands have stopped shaking, and my shoulders are pulled back. I know I look fucking fierce right now, but being naked has nothing to do with it.
“I’ve learned a lot on this journey. Of course, I have regrets. But my biggest regret of all is that I spent so much time agonizing over how good I looked when I was naked—when I could have been focusing on liking myself and not worrying so much about what everyone else thinks about me.
“But by all means,” I say, shrugging and staring my audience down, “let me keep baring my tits out for you all so you can jerk off to this footage while you decide how good I’ll be at convincing other women to buy into a fitness routine.”
The audience is silent. I swear, if someone were to drop a pin right now, I’d hear it. The calm that had settled over me during my talk is gone. I’ve blown it.
It was a lecture, I know, but I felt it needed to be said.
Will Eric and Chase be mad because I blew my chance at the crown with the speech?
They fucking helped me write the one I didn’t give. Of course, they’ll be mad.
I get off the stage and start looking for my men. I brace for the tongue-lashing they’re going to serve me when they find me.
I probably deserve it, but fuck it. I said what I said—and I meant it.
Chapter 40
Kara
Okay, this shit fucking ran away from me—and fast.
Walking off the stage and away from the cameras, it doesn’t feel fast enough, though. It feels like a continuation of the slow-motion horror show that my trip keeps turning into.
The whole world wasn’t there to see me climbing like a badass to new heights, but the whole world’s now reeling from watching me stumble and tumble down at the last fucking second.
I stand by what I said. That speech, probably still playing on closed captioning in a hundred different fucking languages around the globe, is the result of a hot mess of my own oversized baggage.
I’m talking about some monstrously heavy fucking shit that I knew I was carrying but didn’t think about. Before my widely broadcasted speech, I couldn’t even put it into words.
Of course, I ended up dropping it, spilling my shit all over the place. And, really, it’s no goddamn surprise that it happened in front of the entire world.
The hot, blinding lights and the amplified sounds of the pageant winding down are thankfully growing distant as I plod away from the stage.
Production assistants, stage crew, prop wranglers, and a whole bunch of random fucking people are milling around the backstage. After sweating under those lights for an eternity, I can’t really see shit just off-stage.
I can tell everyone’s ignoring me, acting like I’m an invisible naked specter. Really, what does anyone have to say to me at this fucking point?
Congratulations?
That would just be mean, and I’ll give most of the people here some credit—they’re not going to be that fucking brutal.
Most of them, anyway. Including my fellow contestants—most of them will be professional and not fucking cunts, even after that display.
My eyes are adjusting to the light, and I don’t see any of them traipsing around. It’s not like I’m too worried about running into them, anyway.
Chase and Eric, on the other hand…
I’ll have to try to explain, and they’ll have to try and understand. I know they’ll be disappointed, but fuck, so am I.
I’m not disappointed at myself for that speech. In a way, it’s probably the best speech I could’ve given. But I’m still disappointed at the way things are going to turn out because of it, because I didn’t stick with the plan.
I’m confident I’ll get through an entire widely broadcasted pageant with literally nothing to hide, and I’m just as fucking confident that Eric and Chase are concerned with me not sticking to the plan.
That’s probably all they’re concerned with right now...wherever the fuck they are.
All the effort and time we put into this...just for me to stand there and intentionally throw away any chances I have of winning.
