Read Online Imposter by Antony John - Free Book Online

Kris, Sabrina and Genevieve.
    I do a search for
Genevieve Barron
. Turns out, she’s a studentat California Institute of the Arts, but the only link is to a story about her transition from actor to artist. There’s a quote about her needing to leave Hollywood to rediscover her “center.” She thanks her parents and God for helping her on her journey.
    I look up the institute’s website. The campus is in Santa Clarita, only thirty miles from Los Angeles. So nearby, yet there aren’t any photos of Sabrina and Genevieve together that date from the past month. Friends grow apart, I get that, but few have their separation illustrated so starkly.
    It seems crazy to feel sorry for one of the most desired girls in America, but looking at all these photos, I think I finally understand why Sabrina wants to be friends with me. Together, they chronicle the people she’s lost: her parents, her boyfriend, her best friend, and even her agent. Costars, love interest, and even stock characters have exited stage left. And when I scan the photos for their replacements, the ones who’ve won recurring cameos in her life, there’s no one onstage at all.

10
    I NEED TO CLEAR MY MIND, so I put on swim shorts and head for the hotel pool. It’s dark outside, but the bright lights from the fitness center cast a warm glow over one end. Behind the large plate-glass windows, Annaleigh maintains a rapid pace on a treadmill. She has the metronomic, flowing gait of a seasoned runner. She also has a video camera strapped to her head.
    I slip into the pool and begin swimming: four short lengths of each stroke. When I turn onto my back, the hotel looms above me, festooned in Christmas lights. My life, previously so mundane, has become a fairy tale.
    When I switch to breaststroke again I realize that I’m not alone. Annaleigh sits on the edge of the pool, legs swishing through the water. She’s changed into a two-piece swimsuit. The underwater lights give her an ethereal appearance. Well, except for the headcam.
    â€œI don’t think treadmill footage is going to win many Oscars,” I say.
    â€œHmm. What about footage of a naked Seth Crane?”
    â€œI’m not naked.”
    â€œThat’s hard to tell from where I’m sitting.”
    A man emerges from the hotel, sees us, and stops. “Is that a, uh, camera?” he asks, staring at Annaleigh.
    â€œSure is,” she says. “We’re movie stars, see.”
    â€œI can’t believe you don’t recognize us,” I add.
    In the moment before he turns around and leaves, I’d say the guy looks a little freaked out.
    Annaleigh grins. “Can’t believe he didn’t recognize us, huh?”
    â€œYou’re the one who said we’re movie stars,” I point out.
    â€œâ€™Cause we are. Could be a while before anyone knows it, though.”
    â€œHmm. We need to make headlines.”
    â€œYou could try starting a fight with Kris Ellis. Oh no, wait—you already did!”
    â€œKris is small-fry. I need a bigger target.” I smack the water. “I’m going to take down Hollywood!”
    Annaleigh whistles. “Wow. You do think big.” She removes the headcam and offers it to me. “Remind me not to get in your way.”
    While I adjust the strap, she pushes off from the edge and slides into the pool. She ducks down, and swims a length underwater. Beams of light dance around her like flames. When she reaches the end, she does a tuck-turn and continues back toward me without stopping to breathe.
    She surfaces beside me. I expect her to gasp for air, but she doesn’t. “Penny for your thoughts,” she says. She sweeps her short hair back. It’s spiky, but cute.
    â€œI was just thinking: How can any of this be real? Why
me,
you know?”
    â€œYeah, I know.”
    â€œI’ve lived near here all of high school, but everyone knows there’s two Hollywoods.