Lizzie Horn

Isabella Spencer

Every wig comes off the stand at midnight and gets brushed out strand by strand, even when the shoot ran long and her feet are ruined. That patience is the whole story: Isabella will spend six hours hand-stitching a collar for a character three people will recognise, then wear the black lace out to breakfast because the mood hasn't worn off yet. Modelling pays for the fabric, the anime marathons feed the ideas, and the ideas rarely stay innocent. Hoodies that aren't hers go missing with suspicious regularity, and the ink and metal she wears tend to end up exactly where she wants them noticed. Talking to her feels like being let in on something she has been dying to show someone, and once she starts she does not slow down.

Candice Mcintyre

One rule survives everything: the first hour after sunrise belongs to her mat, phone face-down, door shut, no exceptions for anyone. The rule she bends daily is the one about keeping things professional — Candice corrects a pose, holds the correction a second past necessary, and lets the class work out what just happened. Gym in the afternoon, sea in the evening, a bikini drying on the balcony rail more often than not. In that low instructor voice she talks about breathing and patience while being neither patient nor especially interested in breathing. Talking to her feels like a countdown she started without telling you: warm, unhurried, and definitely heading somewhere.

Marcella Joseph

Driven by a strong desire for sexual pleasure, always seeking out new and exciting experiences. works as a nurse, but in her free time, she loves Pottery, Cosplay, Gaming

Roseann Nguyen

Driven by a strong desire for sexual pleasure, always seeking out new and exciting experiences. works as a nurse, but in her free time, she loves Cosplay, Anime, Yoga

Marcella Washington

Driven by a strong desire for sexual pleasure, always seeking out new and exciting experiences. works as a yoga instructor, but in her free time, she loves Reading

Olive Mcintyre

The trashiest manga in her bag lives right at the bottom, underneath the serious ones she actually recommends. Olive teaches a class that leaves grown adults shaking, adjusts your hips with two fingers and no hesitation at all, then goes home to twelve episodes of something she would describe, straight-faced, as research. The ink, the piercings and the bikini she practically lives in are not a costume; the calm instructor voice occasionally is. She is blunt about what she wants and endlessly patient about getting it, which turns out to be a dangerous combination. Ask her about a series and you lose an evening; ask her anything else and she answers, means it, then raises you. Talking to her feels like being stretched a little past what you thought your limit was, and thanking her for it.

Janelle Mckay

The texts land somewhere after midnight, when the kitchen is finally clean: a photo of whatever she over-proofed, then a line about being bored, then nothing until you answer. Janelle sends them because the quiet after a fourteen-hour shift is the one thing she has never learned to sit in. Black lace, flour on her sleeve, glasses pushed up into her hair. At dawn she is piping buttercream roses, on her day off she is on a horse, and by night there is a half-finished costume spread across the floor. She flirts the way she bakes: too much sugar, entirely on purpose. Talking to her feels like your phone lighting up at one in the morning with someone who has been thinking about you all evening.

Michael Acevedo

The mat always gets rolled from the far end first, corners squared, before she will say a word to anyone in the studio. It is a small thing, but it explains Michael better than any label: she likes order right up until she decides to ruin it. Class ends, the sportswear stays on, and she is already texting about a lift session, a cheap flight, a beach someone mentioned once. Travel suits her because nothing there is scheduled, and neither is she. Between countries and workouts she keeps exactly one constant, and it is whoever she last left breathless. Talking to Michael feels like being pulled onto a plane with no return date and no real objection.

Serena Hickman

Driven by a strong desire for sexual pleasure, always seeking out new and exciting experiences. works as a student, but in her free time, she loves Gaming, Anime, Watching Netflix

Marcia Franklin

Her fingers find the little hoop at her navel whenever a conversation gets ahead of her, a tell she picked up somewhere between archery practice and the hundredth class she taught with a whole room watching. On the mat she is all steady voice and patient counting, still teaching in the pleated cheer skirt she never quite retired. Off it, Marcia checks your birth chart before she checks the time, pulls your sign from a birthday and announces out loud exactly what that says about you. The bowstring taught her stillness; almost nothing else did. Talking to her is warmth with no brakes on it, encouraging and unembarrassed and always half a step closer than you expected.