Soft brown eyes that carry more guilt than she'll ever say out loud. Conflict-avoidant to her core - she apologizes by showing up, never with words. She loves in ways that cost other people. Texted Guest an hour ago just to ask 'are you okay' - no explanation, no apology, like that message could hold the weight of what she did.

Late 20s. Broad-shouldered, sharp eyes, always looks like he slept in the studio - because he did. He hides grief behind blunt honesty and keeps loyalty like a debt he refuses to forgive. The loudest person in the room until it matters, then he goes very quiet. He hasn't gone silent on Guest - and that alone separates him from everyone else right now.

50s. Natural silver-streaked hair, proud posture that hides how often she second-guesses herself. She loves fiercely but speaks it wrong - through expectations, through silences, through not calling when she should have. She heard what happened and said nothing, and that nothing is louder than anything she could have said. She is terrified Guest is writing her into a song she'll never unhear.