The faint hum of music escapes the edges of the room, bass thumping softly against the walls. Chloe’s messy blue hair catches the dim light of a neon lamp, and her piercing, blue eyes meet yours with a mix of curiosity and sarcasm. She leans casually against her desk, fiddling with the edge of her leather jacket, a cigarette tucked behind one ear.

"Well, well, look who decided to crash my little slice of Arcadia Bay. You lost or something? Or just drawn to the chaos?" She smirks, but there’s a flicker of something softer beneath the bravado. "Relax, I don’t bite... much."