Free Imposter by Antony John

photographers. Sabrina exchanges a nod withhalf of the front row as if they’re longtime friends. One of the front-row attendees raises her hand. “Kind of strange to have the junket before you’ve started filming, isn’t it?” she asks Sabrina.
    Sabrina turns to me, eager to share the limelight. But her hand rests on the base of the microphone, and so it’s Annaleigh’s mic I drag toward me. “It’s, uh . . . well, it’s a different kind of movie,” I say, my voice booming around the room.
    The reporter never takes her eyes off Sabrina. “Different, how?”
    â€œWe’re being given unprecedented control,” Sabrina explains. “Not just over character development and dialogue, but even the filming itself. Being here today, talking to you, it’s like we’re going on record. This movie is a process, see? Today’s plan for the movie could change tomorrow. We want witnesses to that evolution.”
    â€œYou want
witnesses
?” The woman snorts. She’s clearly not a card-carrying member of the Sabrina Layton fan club.
    But I’m beginning to understand what drew Sabrina back to this movie. “I think what Sabrina’s saying is that everything’s going to affect a movie that’s as real as this,” I explain. “If we’re behind the cameras, deciding when and where and how to film, the real world is going to matter.” I picture the photo of me and Kris. “People getting in the way of what we’re doing is going to matter.”
    A new reporter raises her hand. “So you’re asking people to stay away?”
    â€œNo,” says Sabrina quickly. She smiles at me like we’re explaining a problem to a bunch of particularly dense kids. “We’re saying the audience will own this movie like never before, because they’ll literally have played a role in what it is.” She’s excited now, all bristling energy and unshakable confidence, the polar oppositeof the melancholy, introspective girl on the beach. “Look, Seth and I can’t just block off a street when we want to film each other. People’ll be able to get on frame, say stuff, screw around with us. And yeah, it might piss us off,” she admits, chuckling, “but you’ve got to admit, it doesn’t get any more real that that.”
    Our audience looks just as confused as before, but their eyes flit between Sabrina and me now. She has identified us as a team. Perhaps that’s why the next reporter points his pen at Annaleigh.
    â€œSo you’re the love interest, then, Anna,” he says flatly.
    â€œAnnaleigh,” she says. But the microphone is still facing me, so her voice is lost. After a long moment, she slides it closer. “Annaleigh,” she tries again. “And yeah, I’m one-half of the couple.”
    â€œWhat can you tell us about your character?”
    â€œWell, my name’s Lana. I guess you’d say I’m from the wrong side of the tracks. I’ve been kind of beaten down, but then I meet Seth . . . I mean, Andrew. He’s the good guy. Brings me out of my shell.” She shakes her head, disappointed by her answer. “The movie’s so much more than that, though. It’s about trying to do the right thing and still getting it wrong. The way we’re trapped by things we can’t control—events, family . . . love. Seth’s right,” she adds. “Audiences are going to connect with it because it’s going to feel scarily real.”
    Actually, Sabrina was first to say it, but I think Annaleigh knows that.
    â€œScarily real,” the guy repeats. “Are you speaking personally? Because it must be intimidating to be playing this particular role, right?”
    â€œWhen it’s your first movie, everything’s intimidating.”
    â€œBut to be playing opposite