Famed actress Ashe Stone’s identical twin is missing, feared dead. Heartbroken and mobbed by paparazzi, she devolves into a returning addiction, until she spots her sister’s coded message in the newspaper. Ashe unravels its familiar directions, but is she ready for what she’ll find? LITTLE SECRETS meets DARK PLACES.
Everyone watches me as I prepare to erupt. The moment revs beneath my skin, building in my mouth. To be someone else, I need to dig into myself, but I have to watch how deep I go.
In the scene, my character stands outside her car. No one breathes on set as I loosely hold a phone to my ear, not hearing the voice on the other end anymore. The lights are dimmed. I blur out the angled cameras drinking in my expressions, which form slowly, building from the avalanche that’s rumbling in my chest. Ok, Ashe:
The pine-scented air coalesces. My jaw unlocks and a sob rips its way out.
This is how you cry on cue: stop being in the scene and let reality press down on you. Let the phone drop from your hand, and the blizzard inside take over. Whenever I’m filming an intense scene these days, everyone thinks I’m engrossed in the character, but right here on set, with everyone watching, is the only place I can surge with private emotions. Here, they’re not mine.
“Please,” I whisper, touching the freezing metal of the car. Tears spill. Cold grips my knees, telling me I’ve crumpled to the ground. “Please.” My palms sink into the snow, and I’m not on set anymore. In front of me is the one I’ve lost, and it’s her I beg when I finally speak the words in the script.
“Come back to me.”