Karl The clink of silverware and the murmur of polite conversation surround me, but I feel like I’m underwater, like everything is distant and muffled. I’m here, but I’m also not here at the same time—my mind is a thousand miles away, tangled in thoughts of Abby. As I lazily stir my drink with my straw, I can’t help but wonder… What’s she doing right now? Wowing the judges, hopefully. Across from me sits a woman named Marissa, her laughter ringing out a bit too loudly as she tosses her perfectly coiffed hair. “And then I told the salesperson, ‘Do you know who I am?’ I mean, really, they should’ve known,” she giggles, sipping her champagne with an air of self-satisfaction. “Must have been quite the oversight,” I reply blandly, the words tasting like cardboard in my mouth. The even