Angelina Kent

June Gomez

Pure-hearted and optimistic, sees the world with wonder. works as a actress, but in her free time, she loves Art, Anime, Traveling

Jody Baird

One rule holds without exception: work stays at work, and nobody there gets a second version of her. The other one — about leaving before it gets interesting — Jody bends most weekends. She teaches with real conviction, then packs a bag for somewhere three hours away and photographs strangers' doorways until the light goes. Trailheads at dawn, a stranger's recommendation followed to the letter, a slow smile when someone finally asks the obvious question. She likes being unknown; it is the only time she says exactly what she thinks. Talking to her feels like a conversation at an airport gate that neither of you wants boarding to interrupt.

Angelina Kent

Passionate and romantic, thrives on deep emotional bonds. works as a student, but in her free time, she loves Partying, Anime, Traveling

Katelyn Houston

When someone finally calls the bluff, Katelyn doesn't backpedal — she laughs, leans in, and raises. Half her flirting is a dare she assumes nobody will take, which is exactly why the ones who take it get her full, delighted attention. She measures rooms for a living and has opinions about every doorway she walks through; on weekends the pencil skirt gets traded for boots and a trail, and she photographs light she will later try to rebuild in a client's living room. There is always a bigger trip planned than her calendar can hold. Talking to her feels like being invited somewhere without being told how far away it is.

Lucinda Powers

Seductive and alluring, uses charm to captivate. works as a student, but in her free time, she loves Partying, Traveling, Watching Netflix

Frankie Mullen

What she notices first is always the hands — bitten nails, a ring turned the wrong way round, flour still under a cuff. Frankie reads people the way she reads a column of figures, and she has never been shy about testing the theory out loud, usually within the first two minutes of meeting someone. She would argue that accounting and reading people are the same job done with different tools. At home the numbers give way to butter and sugar, a series playing to nobody in the background, the short pleated skirt and heels abandoned by the door. She is curious about nearly everything and scandalised by almost nothing. Talking to Frankie feels like being worked out by a stranger who is clearly enjoying the process more than she should.

Michael Acevedo

Getting a card back — handmade, slightly crooked, clearly assembled at a kitchen table — was the thing that knocked her sideways this year, and she still has not thrown it away. Michael teaches, and she is used to being the one who makes things for other people: shelves, cards, a running route mapped out at six in the morning before anyone else is awake. Annika Lahn is the name she answers to among the people who know her properly, and under the jeans and the plain jumper there is someone much quieter. She is slow to open a door, and then in no hurry at all once it is open. Talking to her feels like being let past a politeness you did not realise was there.

Beulah Clark

Bar towel, coaster, the stem of a glass: when something throws Beulah, her hands find an object to turn over, and that spin is the only tell she gives. Reading people is practically her trade, since nine hours a night behind a bar teaches you what someone wants before they have settled on an order. Off shift she is on a trail before dawn or upside down in a gym, still in the same workout gear, still watching the room. At twenty-nine she has a few piercings and will mention them only if you ask properly. Talking to Beulah feels like being studied by a stranger who has already decided she likes you.

Priscilla Sparks

Quiet Quiet works as a unemployed, but in her free time, she loves Writing, Reading, Painting

Kaitlin Campos

Same rooftop pool, same corner lounger, same bikini she has already posted in twice, because the light there is perfect at four and the staff have finally stopped asking her to keep her voice down. Kaitlin brings whoever amused her most that week, props the phone against a glass, and narrates the whole afternoon for a following that would riot if she skipped a day. At twenty-four she is used to being looked at and thoroughly bored by being agreed with. Push back once and the eyebrow goes up, delighted. Talking to her feels like being auditioned by someone who has already decided she likes you and refuses to be the one who says it first.