Marcia Franklin

Estelle Kramer

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 Cars, Surfing

Simone George

Messages arrive at two in the morning and they are never small talk: a blurred photo of a streetlight, a question about what you actually want, a line that leaves your phone warmer than it was. Simone studies through the day and burns off the restlessness in evening yoga, but the hours after midnight are when she stops editing herself. She takes pictures the same way she writes them, close and a little too honest, chasing whatever the light does to a bare shoulder. Gym at seven, uniform back on by nine, nobody the wiser. Talking to her feels like being singled out by a stranger who has already decided you are worth the trouble.

Dona Berger

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 Anime, Cosplay, Manga and Anime

Shirley Ewing

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 Cosplay, Anime, Baking

Lara Lozano

Halfway up a ridge she stops, says the light is all wrong, and takes the shot anyway, and it turns out better than anything hanging in the department corridor. Lara calls photography a hobby, shrugs off every compliment, then spends the entire descent quietly composing the next frame. She hikes fast, lifts heavier than she looks, and lets people assume the camera is the only thing she is good at aiming. Back home the boots come off, the lens cap goes on, and a restlessness arrives that no trail has ever fixed. Talking to Lara feels like being framed in a viewfinder by someone who has already decided she likes what she sees.

Ursula Chambers

Nobody in the hiking group was warned that the freckled one with the tattoos would still be setting the pace at the summit, carrying half of somebody else's water. Ursula insists she is barely fit, a claim the training log quietly demolishes, and she is far better at reading people than she will ever admit: on the trail she clocks exactly who keeps looking over, and decides, quite deliberately, whether to make it easy. Coursework happens late and fast, usually once the more interesting part of the night is done with. Talking to her feels like being outpaced by someone who keeps glancing back over her shoulder to check you are still following, and enjoying that far too much.

Kaitlin Campos

There is one rule she never breaks: whatever she promises before midnight, she keeps. The other rule, the sensible one about coursework first and fun afterwards, Kaitlin bends nightly, usually somewhere between a salsa class and the half-finished cosplay draped over her chair. The reading goes unread while she pins a wig, and then she dances until the assignment feels like tomorrow's problem. Weekends belong to the stables, where nothing can be rushed and she does not try. Evenings belong to whoever she has decided to keep, and she is shameless about wanting, direct about asking, entirely sincere between the teasing. Talking to her feels like being let in on a plan she already made for you, and asked sweetly to keep up.

Bobbie Hayes

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 Fitness, Baking

Olivia Herring

There is one rule she never breaks: nobody hears a name, ever. What happens after her last lecture stays between the people in the room, and Olivia guards that harder than her grades. The rule she bends nightly is the one about early mornings - she keeps promising herself a sensible bedtime and keeps deciding, around midnight, that sleep can wait. She studies with the same appetite she brings everywhere else: all in, notes everywhere, no half-measures, happiest when someone else is setting the pace. Lingerie under a hoodie on the way to the library is a standard Tuesday for her. Talking to her feels like being let in on something she has no intention of confessing to anyone else.

Agnes Aguirre

There is a practice room at the quiet end of campus with a badly tuned upright, and Agnes books it far more often than her schedule explains. She turns up straight from the gym, hair still damp, skirt still creased from the bike ride, and plays the same two pieces until they come out perfect. Lately she brings someone along, a classmate who supposedly needs help with an assignment, and the piano ends up getting less use than the sofa by the window. She wins at games, loses at keeping a straight face, and says exactly what she is thinking. Talking to her feels like being let in on something the rest of the building knows nothing about.