A young, brunette woman sits in a chair in the back of the closed costume shop, facing a rather unusual array of sophisticated-looking camera lenses.

“Are you…sure…this is okay, Gwen?” She asks the other girl standing next to her, who is currently typing on a keyboard.

“Oh, come on, Tracy” the girl replies with a smirk. “Don’t tell me you’re chickening out now...”

Tracy nervously rubs her wrists, but she continues to gaze into the lenses, as instructed.

“No…I just wouldn’t want you to, like, get in trouble or anything.”

Gwen laughs. “And since when have I been afraid of a little trouble?”

Tracy can’t help but smile. She and Gwen had always been the unlikeliest of friends. While she had been a model student with perfect grades, Gwen had preferred to skip class and smoke in the bathrooms. While she usually preferred a nice quiet evening at home, Gwen had a nearly limitless endurance for partying. While she had neatly brushed hair and a modest wardrobe, Gwen favoured short skirts and piercings.

“Good point, I suppose” Tracy replies. “But still, isn’t this technically…illegal?”

Gwen scoffs. “Hardly. I mean, it’s a total grey area. The technology is so new, nobody really knows what to consider it. Seriously, don’t worry about it. This is going to take your costume to the next level!”

She turns and studies the screen in front of her intently, while she types the occasional command. Trying to keep her head still, Tracy shifts her eyes to take a look for herself.

On the monitor is what appears to be a highly detailed, three-dimensional recreation of Tracy’s entire head.

Suddenly, a large desktop machine sitting on the bench top next to the two girls whirs to life with a series of mechanical buzzes and beeps.

“There! Scan complete” Gwen announces proudly.

Tracy turns her head to look at the image of herself on the screen. Oh my gosh, is this really happening? She wonders.

“Oh, wow” she says. “That was really fast.”

Her best friend grins. “I know, right? This thing is so fucking cool. It’s basically been running non-stop since my boss bought it.”

Tracy glances over at the machine, reading the silver nameplate: Lyfelike Professional, Model 2.

“Oh, really? Like, people getting ready for Halloween?” She inquires.

Gwen nods. “Uh-huh. Mostly the usual stuff. You know, like monsters and zombies and superheroes. Some custom jobs. But nothing this custom so far…” she says, with a twinkle in her eye.

Tracy blushes and looks away, embarrassed. “Are you sure this is okay?”

Her friend giggles, and places a hand on her shoulder. “I’m just teasing! It’s totally fine. Honestly, it let me test out the equipment hack I found, so I should be thanking you. It’s going to make me some serious side coin…” she whispers, conspiratorially.

Feeling a little reassured, Tracy relaxes in her chair. “Okay, if you say so. How long until it’s…ready?”

Gwen glances at the screen. “Um, about twenty minutes” she replies.

“Wow, that’s…also fast” Tracy murmurs. She finds her gaze drifting back over to the machine, feeling a rising sense of anticipation. But then, she tears her eyes away. No sense watching the kettle boil, she chides herself.

“Oh, I meant to tell you, I love your new hair!” She chirps.

Gwen smiles happily. “Thanks! It took, like, three hours for my hairdresser to finish colouring it” she bubbles, twirling a lock in her fingers.

She’d always had her own unique style, and was known to dye her hair on a semi-regular basis. This time, she’d chosen a striking combination of bright blue and neon pink to add to her naturally raven mane.

“Well it looks great!” Tracy replies, before letting out a cute laugh. “Oh my gosh, remember when my cousin Annie tried to dye her own hair when she was, like, eleven?”

Gwen laughs along with her. “Oh, wow, yeah, I had almost forgotten about that…”

Tracy playfully smacks her leg. “What! How could you forget that! You said she looked like the Joker from the Batman movie!”

Her friend laughs, appearing to remember. “Ooooh, right! That was hilarious. Poor girl. Thankfully, my hairdresser is a bit more professional” she jokes, with a grin. She takes a draw from her vape pen - probably mango cream flavoured, knowing her - and Tracy resists the urge to admonish her for the unhealthy habit.

“So” Gwen says, changing the subject. “How are things going with Jake…?”

Tracy smiles, and begins telling her best friend about how well things are going with her new - first actually serious - boyfriend.

The next twenty minutes pass by in a blur, and before she knows it, the machine on the bench beeps twice and the mechanical sounds fall silent.

Having been distracted by the conversation, Tracy once again feels her pulse quicken as Gwen walks over to the machine. The front is facing away from her, so she can’t see inside when Gwen turns the latch to open the panel. But the devilish look on her friend’s face shows that everyone had gone exactly according to plan.

“Let me see!” Tracy can’t help but blurt out, her eager voice betraying her excitement.

Gwen chuckles. “Not yet! I still need to put the finishing touch on it. But you can play with this while I do…”

From a separate, smaller compartment on the machine, she extracts a thin, tan-coloured strip. She walks back over to the seated girl and gently lifts her chin, exposing her pale neck. Carefully, she presses the adhesive strip to the area just outside her larynx, making sure it sits smoothly on her skin.

“Oh my gosh, I thought you were kidding when you said it could change my voice!” Tracy begins, cupping her neck in her hand after Gwen finishes her work.

Her friend giggles. “Well, it wouldn’t make much sense to have a new face without the voice to match!”

Tracy blushes. “So, when will it- ow!” She squeals, jumping in her seat as she feels a mild shock from the strip.

“There’s your answer, honey!” Gwen laughs.

“Did it really- “ Tracy starts, but then her hand flies to her mouth. “Ohmigod!”

The new tones coming from her lips is decidedly lower and breathier, with a kind of penetrating quality that drips both raw confidence and sensuality.

“I can’t believe this actually worked…” she continues, marvelling at her stolen voice. She can even detect a distinct British accent, another apparent miracle of the tiny device on her neck.

While she converses with herself, she doesn’t notice Gwen retrieving a shoulder-length, raven-coloured wig from the shelf on the wall. It is lace front, parted in the middle, and looks exactly like actual human hair. Gwen had spent some time styling it before Tracy had arrived, giving the slightest of natural waves.

Applying some adhesive, she sets it gently on the object inside the machine, and uses her fingers to position it properly. Next, she performs a similar process and attaches a pair of dark eyebrows to match the hair.

Grinning, she lifts the object out of the machine and holds it up for the still-distracted Tracy.

“Well, are you ready to put your face on, Selene?” She chuckles.

Tracy’s head snaps around to look at her, and her hand flies to her mouth once again. “Holyfuckingshit!” She yelps in surprise.

In Gwen’s hands is the empty, sagging face of the beautiful, pale-skinned vampire-woman. Her slender nose, full cheekbones and pouty lips…all recreated with absolute perfection in stunning detail.

She walks over and sets it down in front of the captivated Tracy, and Selene’s hollow face gapes at her teasingly.

Tracy’s heart hammers in her chest, as she gazes into the gorgeous woman’s vacant eyes. She never guessed that when she mentioned her love for the classic Underworld films had inspired her choice of Halloween costume, that she’d be able to actually bring the fictional woman to “life”.

“This is crazy” she murmurs, reaching out to touch the hollow flesh. “I know you’ll make fun of me for asking again, but are you sure…?”

Gwen smiles. “This face profile is from the first movie, so it’s like, thirty years old. People might not even recognize you! Besides, you can’t really impersonate someone’s former self, can you? It’s just a costume!”

Nodding, Tracy continues to inspect the mask. Then, she hears the machine on the bench start up again.

“Another job?” She inquires, still loving the sound escaping her lips.

Gwen nods. “Uh-huh. Some guy wants to go as one of those “fembots” from Austin Powers. Who am I to judge?” She replies, shrugging.

Tracy giggles, as her friend reaches out to prod the empty mask’s pink lower lip. “Are you going to just stare at me all day, Tracy? Your best friend Gwen worked so hard to make me! So put me on!” Gwen mocks.

She lets out a nervous chuckle. “H-ha, yeah you’re right. I suppose I should…”

Why am I so anxious? She wonders. There’s something about the idea of becoming one of her favourite all-time movie characters that is sending butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

Gwen retrieves a nylon cap from the drawer and hands it to her.

“Tuck your hair up under this.” She instructs. “We’ll have this thing on you in no time!”

Tracy does as instructed, while she watches Gwen tug the bombshell’s hollow face off of its stand. It flops limply into her hands, its gorgeous features crumpling together as its short mane dangles down between her fingers.

“Now grab that lipstick-looking tube right there, and spread the adhesive all around your face” Gwen adds.

Tracy reaches out and picks up the tube, pops off the cap, and rubs the clear, mildly sticky liquid all around her forehead, cheeks, nose and chin.

“Good! Now, I’ll help you this time of course, but you’ll need to do this by yourself at home. So pay attention” Gwen says, with a wink.

Here we go, Tracy thinks, as she nods silently.

With practiced hands, Gwen stretches the mask’s neck open wide and lifts it over her friend’s head, guiding it down smoothly on top of her. With her eyes closed, Tracy feels the smooth, rubbery interior of the prosthetic face gliding over her skin.

Tracy feel’s the dark mane swishing around the back of her neck, as Gwen’s fingers tug and pull on the pliable material, guiding the mask into position. Suddenly, she feels her nose *snap* into its counterpart, as the mask’s eye sockets hug tightly against hers. A moment later, she feels a pair of soft, velvety lips encase her own, right before her chin also pops into place.

Keeping her eyes closed, she sits silently - with her heart hammering - while Gwen presses and prods at her face, making small adjustments.

A few moments later, her best friend says - with a suppressed giggle in her voice “Okay, you can look now!”

Nothing could have prepared Tracy for what she felt when she opened her eyes that first time.

The shocked face of Selene gawks back at her in the mirror’s reflection, with an open mouth and wide eyes.

She lifts her hand, and runs her fingers through her new, jet-black hair that falls to just touch her shoulders. The gorgeous woman in the mirror murmurs, in a perfectly fitting voice, “Gwen…holy shit!”

Gwen squeals and clasps her hands together. “I know, right? These things are so amazing! You’re a perfect copy of her! Well, almost perfect…”

She hands Selene a small case containing a pair of coloured contact lenses, which she quickly slips into her eyes.

She turns back to her reflection and sees a familiar, dazzling, blue-eyed gaze staring back at her, with an expression of sultry determination.

Tracy runs her tongue across her pouty lips, and the stunning woman in the mirror mimics her movement precisely. She turns her head to the side, inspecting her new face from every angle.

“This is so fucking cool!” She chirps, tugging gently on her hair. “I can’t wait to try on the costume at home. I bought it from a super legit cosplay site. It’s got her leather pants, corset, coat, and even her boots! Of course, I also have some pointy teeth to wear…”

Gwen can’t help but roll her eyes and laugh as her friend totally “nerds out”. It’s very strange to see the strong, menacing vampire blubbering like an excited fangirl.

“That’s awesome!” She replies. In a lower, more conspiratorial tone, she continues “So…think you’ll wear it for Jake?”

Tracy is glad her friend can’t see her face flush underneath the mask. Because, she had to admit, the thought certainly crossed her mind.

“Oh…um…maybe…” she falters, looking down at the floor. She thinks about wearing this face, and acting all dominant while straddling her boyfriend on his bed…

Then, the machine on the bench beeps once, breaking her train of thought. Gwen glances over at it, thankfully changing the subject. “Ah, I’m sorry hun, I hate to kick you out, but if I don’t get these orders done tonight my boss will have a fit.”

Again, it’s a funny sight to see the dark-haired beauty react so bashfully. “Oh, of course!” She replies, in her sexy accent. “I should let you get back to work.”

“Thanks! But unfortunately, you can’t wear it out of here. That could get me in trouble.”

The fake woman lets out a throaty laugh, and takes one final look at herself in the mirror. Tracy doesn’t want to take her off just yet, but she is satisfied to know that her apartment is only ten minutes away. Only ten minutes, and she could bring Selene to life once again.

Gwen helps her take off the mask, and after a few moments off tugging, the phony woman’s face comes off with a loud, sucking noise.

Tracy holds the floppy face in her lap, admiring it briefly before dropping it into her large purse, tucking its hair inside.

She stands up and throws her arms around her friend, hugging her tightly.

“Thank you so much, Gwen! This is going to be amazing.”

Gwen pats her on the back. “No sweat! Don’t mention it. Like, seriously, let’s keep this one on the DL” she replies with a wink.

“Of course! Sure!” Tracy says.

Gwen watches her friend leave the shop, taking another puff on her vape.

But when the door closes behind the departing Tracy, she tosses the pen into the trash and mutters “Ugh, gross!”

A wicked grin spreads across her face as she walks over and sits down in the same spot her friend had. She opens her mouth and runs her fingers down either side of her face, admiring her reflection in the mirror.

“Oh, Tracy” she jeers, tossing her multicoloured mane back behind her shoulder. “You really always have been so trusting…”

She lets out a malicious laugh, then runs her tongue over her lower lip, feeling the bump of the piercing punched through her flesh.

“This chick is such a hipster” she chuckles, tugging at her own hair while rolling her eyes. “But she sure served her purpose…”

Swiftly, a smiling Gwen slips her hand into the neckline of her shirt and pulls out a tapered, skin-coloured flap. Sliding her fingers underneath it, she works them upwards, stretching and distorting her pretty face. Her rounded chin crumples up into her red lips, which pucker together as they snap free and fold into her nose, taking her piercing with them.

She lets out a soft grunt as her eye sockets stretch away with soft snapping noises, becoming nothing more than empty voids, as her entire face and hair come off with a noisy, rubbery SCHLORP.

Tracy’s younger brother Evan is revealed, and he turns the deflated mask over in his hands, wearing a big smile on his face. From the neck-down, his body is still radically reshaped to look like exactly Gwen’s, creating a rather striking incongruity.

“Finally” he grumbles, still using Gwen’s breathy, feminine tones. Her neon-coloured hair spills between his fingers, and her cute features are eerily scrunched together. He peels a thin strip from his neck, and coughs to clear his throat.

“You didn’t even think to make sure your BFF Gwen was actually working tonight. Too bad…” he taunts, to his departed sister.

He sticks his hand up inside the neck of the mask, supporting it from underneath the top of its scalp. Gwen’s cute face sags around his forearm, and her hair tickles his elbow. He gazes into her blank eyes with a proud smirk, thrilled with his own impeccable impersonation.

Like all of the other employees of the costume shop, Gwen had jumped at the chance to use the Lyfelike Model 2 to make the occasional mask for herself. And, like all the others, she’d saved her face and voice profile to the system - password protected, of course.

“How lucky that we’ve known each other so long!” Evan laughs, poking her floppy cheek. “You really used your dog’s name for a password? That wasn’t very secure…”

He works her lower lip like a puppet’s and says, in a high-pitched falsetto, “But I love my little Teddy!”

Evan sees that some of her high-shine scarlet lip gloss has smudged onto his fingertip, and he wipes it on her denim skirt. Grinning, he remembers back to when he opened her file, and had the software perform the effortless task of superimposing her face over his. When the machine had whirred to life, he knew his little plan was actually going to work.

Still, she almost blew the whole thing with these new colours, he thinks, flicking a strand of the mask’s hair. Thankfully, he was able to purchase some identical dye for the wig at the last minute.

That story Tracy told about Annie had also almost exposed him, but he was able to successfully change the subject, even if it meant hearing his sister drone on and on about Jake. But like a good girlfriend, Gwen had just smiled and listened attentively, while the guy secretly wearing her face groaned silently to himself.

He gazes at her empty features, and it does feel pretty thrilling for him, knowing he could tug her face back on over his and easily reassume her identity. If he could fool Tracy - one of Gwen’s closest friends - he could probably fool anyone.

“Okay, that was actually kind of fun” he muses. He uses his thumb and index finger to squish the soft cheeks he’d just been wearing as his own, causing the girl’s pink lips to pucker into a lifeless kiss. “I guess I didn’t mind being you for a little while, Gwen. Especially since it helped me get my sister in front of those cameras” he adds with a laugh.

He releases her cheeks, and her face bounces back into a slightly saggier version of the real Gwen’s, still supported by his hand.

“But, if it means sucking on that nasty vape, I think I’m done with this mask for a while” Evan says with a grin, tossing it onto the table in front of him. It lands with a hollow thwack, and Gwen’s face gazes blankly up at the ceiling as her hair spills across the surface. “I’ll still hang on to you though, just in case…”

The impressive machine on the bench beeps twice again, and he turns his head. “Wow, even faster this time. But I suppose that makes sense.”

He stands up and walks over to it, and when he opens the front panel, his mouth curls into a wicked smirk.

A perfect copy of Tracy’s face gapes at him with an open mouth and vacant, staring eyes. Her pale skin is scattered with all the right freckles, and a small scar - a remnant of a minor childhood mishap - sits just underneath her chin.

Grinning, Evan walks over to the shelves and retrieves another lace front wig, this one with a long, wavy brown mane parted in a side-swept style.

“And you didn’t even notice a perfect copy of your own hair sitting right there. What a coincidence!” He laughs.

He carefully glues the voluminous wig to the empty mask, using a hair dryer to speed up the adhesion process. Then, he adds a pair of slim, arched eyebrows just above the vacant sockets.

Satisfied with his work, he lifts the husk from its temporary stand, and Tracy’s deflated face crumples into his hands.

Evan brushes away long strands of hair so he can get a good look at the familiar girl he’s about to become. “You didn’t even think about how having your face scanned didn’t just mean I could make a mask for you…”

He sticks his hand up through the neck of the mask as he’d done with Gwen, supporting it from the inside. It sags under its own weight as he lifts it up, and he pokes its button nose.

“It meant that I could make a mask of you!” he laughs.

A minute later, after pressing another strip to his throat, he begins tugging on his new face. Tracy’s delicate features easily stretch to accommodate him, forced to welcome the imposter into her identity.

Grunting, Evan feels his chin snap into place, and hurriedly presses and prods the mask into alignment. The tapered edges of Tracy’s nose slip up into his nostrils, and her eyes tug at his own, pulling them into the right form. The fact that they already bear a slight resemblance seems to help, and it isn’t long before the transformation is complete.

The new Tracy smiles at her own reflection, running her fingers over her face. She swaps Gwen’s light hazel irises for slightly darker ones, then applies a coating of skin-coloured blending paste around her eyes, wiping away the excess with a tissue.

She looks into the mirror and gently clears her throat, placing a hand gingerly on her neck.

“Hi, I’m Tracy!” She chirps, in a perfect copy of the real girl’s bubbly, feminine tones. “I accidentally let my little brother scan my face to make a mask, and boy, is that going to be trouble!”

The phony girl breaks out into a fit of laughter, tossing her hair back behind her head.

She then attempts to smooth the tangles out, muttering out of character. “How the hell does she keep up with all this” the young man wearing her face wonders, running a brush through Tracy’s long, buoyant mane.

Finally, the imposter stands and picks up the empty Gwen mask, placing it discreetly into a grey gym bag.

“Until next time, sweetheart” the fake Tracy laughs, looking down at her “best friend’s” crumpled face. She tucks strands of coloured hair inside, before zipping the bag closed.

Then, the Gwen/Tracy hybrid begins stripping out of her clothing. Her black & white t-shirt falls to the floor, followed by a simple grey bra. Her bare breasts look almost natural due to a lack of any telltale seams, but since they’re meant for function over form, they are rather bland and featureless, lacking the total realism of her face.

She tugs her ripped denim skirt and black tights down her legs, now standing “half-naked” wearing only a pair of black boy shorts. Like her torso, her hips and thighs appear to be nothing more than well-placed, realistic padding. While they wouldn’t fool anyone by themselves, combined with clothing, they created a flawless rendition of whoever the wearer was trying to look like.

The imposter walks over to a small cabinet, hips swaying naturally with the added weight of the padded shorts. She opens it up to find a variety of prosthetic appliances, designed to mimic all aspects of the human form. Numerous pairs of different flattened “gloves” sit on the top shelf, extending from the way from the wearer’s elbow all the way to individual fingers. Tracy flexes hers unconsciously, still not quite used to the way the lifelike material squeezes them into a slightly different shape.

Then, she lifts her hands to her chest and scratches just underneath her breasts, revealing a barely perceptible seam. Stretching the material away from her skin, she reaches under it and - after some effort - pulls out two soft, squishy mounds. She places them on a shelf next to some others, and picks up two slightly larger ones, stuffing them back inside the prosthetic appliance.

“Yeah, yeah, good for you, sis” the disguised Evan mutters in her voice, not wanting to spend much time on this particular aspect of his disguise.

She tugs on the seam and her new chest flops into place, swaying and bouncing naturally with her movements while it blends completely with the imposter’s skin.

The phony Tracy then repeats the process with her hips, replacing two rubbery pieces inside the padded shorts with thicker ones, giving her lower body a marginally wider shape.

With that complete, she reaches into a duffel bag and pulls out a new set of clothing, each item looking like it could have been taken from the real Tracy’s closet. A pair of black skinny jeans covers her legs, hiding any evidence of the elaborate body-shaper. But it certainly does its job, filling out the pants with a nicely rounded backside and shapely thighs.

She then pulls on a white tank-top, taking care to adjust her chest underneath the thin fabric. The neckline of the top is low, but the top portion of the prosthetic torso is painted to look authentic, so the realism of the disguise is preserved. A long-sleeved, black-and-red flannel shirt follows, completing the outfit. She fluffs her hair out behind her head, admiring her appearance in the mirror.

A perfect copy of Tracy Stewart smiles back at her, showing absolutely no indication that her entire appearance is an elaborate, prosthetic disguise.

No one could fucking tell, the trickster wearing her face and body thinks to himself, turning side-to-side. He couldn't predict what the real Tracy would wear that evening, but it could just as easily have been exactly what he now sees in the reflection.

Finally, the phony girl slips on a pair of socks and black, ankle-high boots. She paces back-and-forth a few times, getting used to the balance of her reshaped body.

After a minute, she hears the shop’s front door bell jingle, and turns her head towards the entrance to the workshop.

That could only be one person, she thinks with a smile. Quickly, she sits down in front of the mirror and pulls out her phone, pretending to scroll mindlessly.

A moment later, a young man enters the room, glancing around curiously. He sees her sitting in front of him, and says “Oh, hey, Tracy. Is…uh…Evan around?”

She looks up at him indifferently, and shrugs. “Hi, Doug.” She replies. “I don’t think he’s working tonight. Why?”

He pulls out his phone, and looks annoyed. “He told me to meet him here tonight” he murmurs. “We…uh…had plans.”

“Well, I haven’t heard from him all day. I’m just here to meet my friend Gwen. We’re going to grab a drink after she gets off work” Tracy casually explains.

“Oh…Gwen is working tonight? Maybe I got the date mixed up…”

Doug looks to be typing a text, and doesn’t notice Tracy subtly switch her phone to silent.

“Well, you know him, he’s not exactly punctual” she jokes, crossing her legs. The imposter gets a sudden thrill from referring to himself in the third person, enhanced by the fact that his friend has no idea it’s really him behind Tracy’s face.

Her phone gives a short, quiet buzz, and she sees that Doug had texted Evan: Dude, where are you? You told me you were doing it tonight, but your sister is still here!

The phony Tracy’s lips curl into a half-smile, and she lets the frustrated Doug stew for another minute or two, while she pretends to read a news article.

“Where is this guy?” Doug eventually asks aloud, typing on his phone again.

“I really don’t know” Tracy replies, not taking her eyes off the screen. “Maybe he got held up in traffic. Maybe he just forgot he was supposed to meet you.”

She looks up at Doug in the mirror and tilts her head to the side, then adds with a wicked smirk “Or maybe he’s sitting right in front of you.”

The words have a striking effect on Doug, who jumps like he’s received an electric shock. The phony girl starts giggling uncontrollably, savouring the look on his face.

After several long, speechless moments, he stammers “Y-you…you’re…Evan?!”

“That took you long enough!” The fake Tracy taunts, standing up from the chair. As she walks over to him, he scans her up and down with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“No fucking way…” he murmurs, gazing at the impeccable girl in front of him.

“Oh, you think I’m kidding? Look…”

She pinches her puffy lower lip with her thumb and index finger, pulling it down gently. It stretches farther than it should, and Doug can see another person’s lip hidden underneath.

“Beleev meh nerw?” The imposter asks, her words slightly muffled by the distorted mask.

Doug’s mouth drops open as she lets go of her lip, smoothing it back into place. She runs her tongue over it, and briefly checks it in the mirror, satisfied that her disguise is once again flawless.

“Holy shit!” Doug exclaims. “You said these things were realistic, but damn!”

Tracy laughs again. “I told you, man! No one can see through them. And it helps that apparently I am one hell of a good mimic.”

“I’ll say” his friend agrees. “I had no idea.”

The phony Tracy pumps her fist in the air. “Awesome!” She beams.

It’s strange for Doug to witness Tracy acting like her brother, and he has to continuously remind himself that the girl standing in front of him is actually his friend in an extraordinary disguise.

“So, what are you planning to do, looking…like that?” Doug inquires, as the phony girl gives her face a final inspection the mirror.

“Oh, I have a lot of ideas planned for the next couple of weeks” she replies, applying a coating of light pink lipstick. Fucking lipstick! Doug thinks.

Tracy purses her lips together and continues “I’m finally going to get a little good-old-fashioned payback for all her nagging and snitching over the years.”

She tilts her head to the right and says “Dad! Evan backed your car into a light post at the supermarket!”

She tilts her head to the left. “Mom! Evan had a girl over while you guys were at Aunt Carol’s!”

Doug can’t help but laugh at the ridiculous performance. “Oh, yeah, and remember when we snuck some beers into your basement in high school and she ratted on us all? What a narc…”

Suddenly, her impish grin turns into a mildly annoyed, superior-looking frown. She turns to him with her arms crossed, and replies “Um, you should be grateful that I told my parents. Have you ever heard of alcohol poisoning? You, my brother, and your little group of friends weren’t responsible enough to drink. Plus, it was illegal…”

His eyes widen and he looks down at the floor, but then he curses himself for feeling like he’d just been reprimanded by his friend’s overbearing older sister. He looks back up to find her grinning at him wickedly.

“I still got you, didn’t I?” She jeers. “I told you I was a fucking great mimic!”

Doug runs his fingers through his hair, exhaling loudly. “Wow, dude. That was convincing as hell!”

Tracy bursts out into a happy giggle, and grabs her purse from the table. A fucking purse! Doug thinks.

“Well, come on” she chirps, brushing past him and heading for the door. “The night is young!”

Doug turns to follow her and asks “Where are we going?”

Smiling, she replies “Like I said, I have plenty of things in mind. But for tonight, we’ll keep it simple. Tracy could use a night out…”

LATER ON

The small-town dive is decently crowded for a Friday night, and the pretty brunette has to shoulder her way past a couple of people to get to the bar.

“Can I get another two beers?” Tracy yells over the music, giving the bartender a friendly, half-drunk smile.

“Sure thing!” He replies, grabbing a pair of glasses.

From behind Tracy’s prosthetic face, Evan feels exhilarated, knowing that his disguise is beyond good enough to fool every single person around him.

He catches a glimpse of a girl with big, flowing brown hair in the mirror behind the bar, and looks up to see his own flawless, masked reflection staring back at him. He can’t help but chuckle, because it isn’t the first time that’s happened tonight.

Being a single guy in his early twenties, he’d learned to keep his head on a swivel when out with friends, looking for any ladies who might be taking an interest in him. But tonight, he finds himself going through the same amusing sequence.

Oooh, that girl is looking at me!

Ugh, it’s just Tracy.

Wait…fuck…

While the phony girl waits for her drinks at the bar, Doug chats with another friend of theirs.

“What is up with Evan’s sister tonight?” Chris asks, sipping his beer. “She’s normally such a buzzkill. Did you see her challenge me to pool? Dude, I got hustled in three games!”

Doug stifles a laugh, looking at the phony girl leaning over the bar. Yeah, there is an explanation, but you wouldn’t believe it!

Instead, he replies “I know, I think her new boyfriend is helping her loosen up, or something.”

“Well, I’m out thirty bucks. So screw that guy” Chris retorts, with an amused grin.

Doug looks over, and is still totally amazed that the girl twirling her hair impatiently is actually Evan in disguise. That’s even something the real Tracy would do! He marvels.

The imposter turns around, catches his eye, and gives him a playful, subtle wink. Then, she points at Chris, then herself, then the pool table, and tilts her head to the side as if to ask “Another game?”

Chris shakes his head and mouths “No way!”

She tosses her head back and laughs. It was almost too easy, she thinks to herself. Chris had no idea the girl challenging him was really Evan in disguise, which certainly helped. And the fact that she would occasionally lean over the table during his shots, displaying her cleavage, served to further distract the hapless young man.

Man, this disguise is going to be useful, she muses with a grin, turning back to the bar.

The bartender returns with Tracy’s drinks and sets them on the bar in front of her. He looks at the smiling brunette, and suddenly recognizes her.

“Hey, didn’t we go to the same high school?” He asks, sliding the glasses over.

She smiles, and thinks quickly on her feet. “Yeah, I think we did! Tracy Stewart!”

“Bill Morris!” He replies. “Yeah, I think we had Biology together!”

“Totally! I remember you!” She lies, nodding her head enthusiastically.

Then, the imposter leans in and continues “Look, I’m actually really glad you’re working here! I feel like such an idiot, but I forgot my wallet at home. Is there any chance you can put my drinks on a tab, and I can come pay tomorrow?” She asks, fluttering her eyelashes.

Bill considers for a moment. He does go way back with Tracy, and she certainly doesn’t have the reputation of someone who would stiff a bar tab.

So, he nods in agreement. “Sure, no problem! I’ll keep your tab running.”

“Oh, you are the best!” She beams, blowing him a flirty kiss.

Tracy turns around, raises her glass, and yells out to the people around her.

“SHOTS ON ME!”