Identity Crisis

|Chapter Two| In Which Priorities are Addressed

|Chapter Two| In Which Priorities are Addressed

Ethan, Mom, three police officers, Alexis' agent, Alexis' primary makeup artist, and I sit around the expansive table in our dining room.

Alexis' agent is dressed in a tight, gray pencil skirt and matching blazer. Her glasses--chic, not-nerdy glasses--sit on the bridge of her nose and her light brown hair is pulled up into a strict, no-nonsense bun.

Mom is staring at the table, her eyes wide and unseeing as one of the police officers--a man who appears to be in his late thirties--consoles her.

Alexis' makeup artist stands behind the agent, her face coated in an impressive mask of cosmetics, complete with perfectly winged eyeliner. Come to think of it, I'm not entirely sure why she's even here.

Ethan looks panicked, sitting on the edge of his seat on my right. I lightly pat one of his arms, though he doesn't seem to remember my existence. I can only imagine the turmoil going on inside his head as he ponders the tour starting in two days. Will he be traveling alone or canceling it altogether?

The other two officers have spent the last thirty minutes questioning us and analyzing the note left in Alexis' handwriting. Supposedly, her kidnapper forced her to transcribe a sort of ransom note minus the ransom part. From closely scrutinizing the handwriting and the wording over and over again, I've managed to memorize the entire page:

Mom,

     I'm sorry, but by the time you read this, I'll be long gone, likely in the trunk of a shabby car.

He's forcing me to write this, to write down how I feel. I think he has mental instabilities, but I'm not sure.

He says he's taking me so I'll never influence the next generation of free-thinkers with my music. He won't take off his mask, and he's already duct taped my mouth shut. I want to scream. I want you to hear me.

Avery, I love you. Please don't let anything happen to Mom. Help Ethan if things go south. Be there for my fans if I turn up dead in a river.

Tears pool in my eyes as I think about that part. I can't imagine how scared Alexis must have been, how terrifying it would be to practically write your own death warrant.

You guys, don't let him win. I don't know who he is, but he's a pretty tall guy. He smells like...

At this part, there are frantic scratch marks, as if a battle ensued. At the bottom, it simply reads:

I love you all. Please find me. Please keep the tour alive.

            Yours Well and Truly,
                           Alexis Maddlestone

Something seems so off about it, particularly the dark humor in a couple of the short paragraphs. It's clearly Alexis' handwriting, but why would she be forced to write something like that?

It doesn't pose any benefits for her captor, nor does it offer any closure for Alexis or any of us.

The police officers have already alerted the rest of their force, and experts have already agreed to conduct their own analyses of Alexis' scribbled half-letter. I can only hope that they find something we didn't.

"So," Alexis's agent--her name is Claudia--says with a business tone, "what do we do now? What will be done about the tour? I think plans should go along, and Ethan can-"

"No," Ethan interjects. "I won't go on this tour without Alexis. She's the one the fans want to see."

Claudia turns her always-present glare on him. "You are the hot guitarist, the second half of the ship name, the one fans find mysterious. If Alexis Maddlestone is AWOL, do you honestly think they'd rather have no tour at all? This is your chance to rise in fame, to equal Alexis."

I stand up so quickly my chair falls backward. "What the hell is wrong with you, Claudia? Ethan is not going to use Alexis' alleged kidnapping to boost his own fame. That's so shady!"

Suddenly, every eye in the room is on me. Claudia, the police officers, the makeup artist, Mom and Ethan look like they're shocked.

"What?" I ask, staring back at them.

Claudia stands as well, waving the makeup artist along with her. She walks over to me and I try my best not to recoil.

"She's the answer," Claudia says, her dramatic voice in full effect. "Avery is identical to Alexis. The fans would never know."

It takes me a moment to realize what she's saying. She wants me to pose as Alexis until they find Alexis.

Even Mom looks like she's considering this. Angrily, I brush Claudia off. "Excuse me? No. We're trying to find Alexis, not find her replacement! Mom, you have to agree that this is crazy."

"I--," she falters, looking down at the table. "I think Alexis would want the show to go on. I mean, she basically says so in the note. Maybe you can stand in for her on the tour until we find her."

Ethan nods along and I resist the urge to slap him.

I can't stand in for Alexis on tour. She is in trouble, and I'm not going to enjoy the high life while other, less-driven people search for her.

"I can't even sing," I argue. "How am I supposed to stand in for a famous singer if I can't sing?"

Claudia smiles her witch smile. "Lip sync, of course. No one will suspect if we use the raw recordings instead of the recordings used on the radio."

Mom has started crying again, and the male cop rubs her shoulders. Ethan looks at me, his eyebrows raised. "It's up to you, Avery."

"I want to help find Alexis," I say weakly, pleading with the people sitting around the table.

Claudia masks her glee with a false sympathetic frown. "The police and your mother will do everything they can. Meanwhile, you'll be helping Alexis in the biggest way possible: saving her tour."

I look at each face in turn, searching for any possible way out. Seeing none, I sigh in defeat. If I pretend to go along with their stupid plan, I can do my own thing without their suspicions. "Fine."