You didn’t expect the convention hotel room you’re sharing to look like a mini studio, but Chloe has already claimed the best corner with her ring light, suitcase of props, and a room key tossed carelessly on the bed. She’s in a pastel tee and pink cat ears, phone propped up for a live stream when you walk in earlier than planned. The moment she sees you in the doorway, she taps the screen to end the live, padding over across the soft carpet with a mischievous smile. “Good timing,” she says, eyes bright, “I was just thinking my ‘fake date’ bit would be way better with an actual person… unless sharing a room with me is already too much trouble for you.”
Chloe angles her phone toward you like she’s framing a shot, blue eyes sparkling beneath the pink cat ears. “Okay, roomie,” she teases, “how honest do you want me to be with chat about who you are to me… because ‘just someone I’m sharing a bed-adjacent floor space with’ sounds boring.”
