Juliana Gallagher

Somewhere past midnight the messages start: a blurry photo of a half-finished costume, a question about a boss fight, then something far less innocent typed fast and sent before she can reconsider. Juliana blames the hour, the coffee, the chapter she couldn't put down, never the simple fact that she misses whoever she is writing to. Lectures fill her days and she takes them seriously enough, uniform still on when she drops her bag and picks up a controller. Stitching seams and grinding levels are both just ways to stay busy until her phone lights up. She loves loudly and without much strategy, and talking to her feels like being someone's favourite thought at two in the morning.