The firestarter. The disco ball turned solar flare. The one who gave us back the pulse.

The writer. The runner. The woman who almost got the guy but never lost herself.

The one in the mask knows grief, burden, and longing. The one behind the mask still makes time to swing through the chaos for the people he loves. Maybe we’re all a little more masked than we’d like to admit.

The sacred slacker. The accidental oracle. The one who floated anyway.

The glitter. The gospel. The mascara that never flinched.

The fringe. The smirk. The Sloane who knew the next move before Ferris even did.

The porchlight. The storyteller. The Texas memory keeper.

The stillness. The rebel in restraint. The gentleman who never raised his voice but never lost the room.

The seeker. The drifter-philosopher. The truth in denim.

The fire. The truth-teller. The soul that sings justice.

The flirt. The feeler. The spell in sunglasses.

The razor. The witness. The scalpel of silence.