The Disappearing Act

“Well, yeah, I’m still in her house.”

“Then I’d suggest you leave her house. And if you still have a set of her keys, then bring them along tomorrow. That’d be helpful. Although, having said that, we’d need to get Emily’s, or Emily’s landlord’s, permission to enter the property anyway so…but yeah, probably best if you head home now and come in to report the incident tomorrow.”

I feel completely immobilized by her words. They can’t seriously expect me to just go home after this. Someone was hired to act out scenes with me. Someone gave Joanne a character description of me. And Emily is gone. “But what if something’s happened to her? Am I safe?”

“I would have thought so. You know, technically, going missing isn’t a crime, and the only reason we’d investigate this is if there’s solid evidence of a crime. What you’re telling me now about someone impersonating Emily might be evidence of something or it could just be that Emily doesn’t want to be found; again, not illegal. So unless you know of an actual crime? Because this could just be a prank she’s pulling, we don’t know, believe me I’ve seen worse. Anyway, come in tomorrow, we’ll go through the procedures and see what we see. Okay?”

Not really. “Yeah, okay.” I sigh.

“Oh, and bring a photograph of her. Whatever you’ve got.”

I have nothing. My eyes scan the room for one.

“Will do. Thanks, Officer Cortez.”

“It’s Maria. We’ll see you tomorrow.”



* * *





I can’t say I feel any better after I hang up. I suppose in my head they’d send a squad car straight here and dust the apartment for prints and open an in-depth investigation immediately but then things don’t work like that in the real world, do they.

Joanne is going to be more than a little annoyed at me if I give the police her name tomorrow but I don’t think she’ll go as far as to deny she was involved. If she does, I’m not sure where that leaves me. Because if Joanne is removed from the chain of events that led me here, then it might be assumed that I stole Emily’s apartment keys from her car or broke in.

My mind fizzles along that track. If I had access to her apartment I might have been the woman the cops ID’d here the other night. Might I have been the woman impersonating her? I know for a fact I fit Emily’s description; everyone at that audition four days ago did.

But I’m sure Joanne won’t deny it. It’s one thing to want to avoid hassle and quite another to lie to the police. I shift on the sunken-seated sofa. Besides there’ll be an email chain on Joanne’s computer and her agent’s linking her here. And she was caught on CCTV in my building collecting Emily’s things. I wander back into the kitchen to retrieve Joanne’s padded envelope full of evidence.

I weigh the packet in my hands. I should take this and give it to them tomorrow too. And I should leave. Cortez is right. I’ve already wasted too much of my own time on this. It’s not like I don’t have anything to do out here. I think of Joanne slinking out into the evening light, free. I could just go. It’s clear nobody else is as concerned about this as I am.

But then that’s not true. Somebody else is very concerned about this, about what I know. They are so concerned that they’ve gone to great lengths to make me think Emily is still around. I can’t help but wonder what they’ll do now that I know she’s gone.

I finger the papers inside the envelope, pulling one out absentmindedly.

It’s Emily’s character description.

Character: (Emily) Brunette, late twenties, attractive, native New Yorker. Emily Bryant is an actress pounding the pavements in search of that elusive golden ticket, her big break. While she’s got all the sass and grit you’d expect from a girl who grew up in the big city there is also a soulful and quiet confidence to Emily. And although she’s quick to make friends she never really lets anyone get too close. As this immersive role develops we will come to realize that Emily is living with a secret that may force her to abandon everything she values…or face the consequences.



Jesus, this is meta. A shiver runs through me.

Without stopping to think I grab the package and root through until I find what I’m looking for. I take a breath and read.

Character: (Mia) Brunette, late twenties, pretty, British. Mia Eliot is the classic innocent abroad. Having found success in her native England she travels to LA, on her own, to land the role of a lifetime.



I spin and look around the empty apartment suddenly possessed by the eerie idea that I am being filmed. Right now. I scan bookshelves, the corners of the room.

I’ve heard stories. I know there are whole sections of the Internet given over to secretly filming women, that iPhones get duct-taped under sinks in Starbucks, that laptop cameras get hacked and set to broadcast. My eyes skip to Emily’s computer on her desk. The tiny black camera aperture above the lifeless screen stares blankly back at me. I march over and slam the lid.

The idea that I might have been deliberately led to where I am now comes into my head. Someone could be back at my apartment, right now, doing God knows what. Waiting for me, maybe.

I pull out the rest of the papers and inspect them. They’re scene breakdowns. My eyes scroll through them.

? Proposed car collection scene. Emily retrieves her rental car from outside a casting studio after disappearing for two days. She may meet a concerned receptionist, whom she’ll need to reassure. The receptionist may express concerns over Emily’s sudden disappearance. Emily should appear rushed and under pressure to return her rental car before her parking lapses.



That was the morning Joanne collected the car from North Hollywood. My eyes leap to the next.

? Avis rental return. Emily returns the pre-paid vehicle and explains she no longer needs it for the full period. She asks for her card to be refunded if possible. If this is not possible, she is willing to lose her deposit.



God, Joanne must have thought this was the weirdest and most boring job in the entire world. I turn back to the previous page.

? Proposed café scene. Emily meets Mia (an actress she met at an audition) to collect her wallet and her car keys. Emily thanks Mia for her help but is reticent to talk about her personal problems. She may allude passingly to family or relationship issues.



I stop reading. It didn’t happen in a café. This is exactly what happened at my apartment two nights ago. Joanne played out this scene with me without my realizing. Aside from a different location our interaction was almost exactly this. Someone planned our meeting ahead of time. A chill runs through me and I spin around suddenly, feeling phantom eyes on me. But of course I am alone. At least I am right now. This is fucking weird. My fear for Emily is now wholly superseded by fear for myself. How far does this story go? How does it end for me? I desperately flip through the scenes looking for more containing my name. And for a horrifying moment I get the feeling I might find one describing exactly what I’m doing at this moment. My heart pounds and everything else slips away except for the words in front of me as I skim. Breath held, I turn to the final page and read.

But the scenes don’t make it to where I am now. The last page in Joanne’s stack relates to a potential police scene she “acted out” the other night. Whoever organized this pack thought of everything. Well, everything up until the police verifying her ID. I imagine they assumed that after that verification, I would be satisfied. I would stop. But I didn’t.

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