Angela sighed and visualized her real face. Her skin shimmered again for a moment. When the glow faded, she’d returned to normal. She turned to face Jackie and crossed her arms.
“So what exactly am I supposed to be doing in this video?” Angela asked.
“Well, the video starts with the band playing on stage,” she said. “We shot that stuff earlier at Valhalla. Then these two hooded figures appear in the audience and chase us off stage. It turns out they’re evil doppelgangers of me and Greta. That’s where you and Francis come in.”
“I don’t think I’d be any good at this,” Angela said. “I’m just going to make a fool of myself.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Jackie said. “Everyone will think you’re me, anyway.”
Angela drummed her fingers on her elbows. The idea of complete anonymity was appealing. She focused on Jackie’s face and felt herself change again. She glanced at Greta.
“If there’s anything you’d like me to record for blackmail purposes, let me know,” Angela said in.
Greta laughed and said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Do I want to know what you two are saying?” Jackie asked in English.
“Just plotting your doom,” Angela replied.
“Can you destroy me after we finish filming?” she said.
“I suppose it could wait,” Angela said.
“Thanks,” Jackie said. “Now, wardrobe’s over there.” She pointed to one of the vans. “They’ll get you all decked out and then we can get the cameras rolling.”
Angela turned and headed for the van.
“Damn,” Jackie said. “I’ve got a nice ass.”
Angela rolled her eyes. She climbed into the van and a middle-aged woman with a French accent dressed her in a tight red dress that would never have fit on her real body. When she looked into the mirror, she felt a pang of insecurity, thinking about Genesis’s history with this body.