⇢ 🌸 STATUS ﹕ Open. ⇢ 🌸 TAGGING ﹕signe + Utp !! ( @palmviewstarters ) ⇢ 🌸 DETAILS ﹕

⋮ ★ 𝚘𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚡𝚎: dependent, multimuse roleplaying blog for palmviewfm. penned by krys ( 32, she / her + est ). please do not interact if you are not a part of the group.

𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚖𝚜𝚝𝚛ö𝚖 — intro. pinterest. playlist.

𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚑 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚢 — intro. pinterest. playlist.

𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚊 𝚓𝚊𝚗𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐 — intro. pinterest. playlist.

SIGNE: Omg!! You're so embarrassing sometimes! SIGNE: I meant there aren't really any juicy details -- it was our first date! SIGNE: But pay me the hot cheetos random and I'll tell you all there is to know (:

Adriana: If “averting my eyes” means aggressively zooming in on my phone to confirm it was you two… then yes, absolutely, my eyes were definitely averted 👀

Adriana: Hot Cheetos are ALL YOURS if I get the full rundown. No holding back! I want the juicy details. The last cute romance I witnessed was literally in a tv show.

Adriana: Hot Cheetos and hot men!! I’m so happy for you, babe 😭🥰

She   rolled   her   eyes   when   he   bumped   her   shoulder   and   complimented   her   sous   chef   abilities.   While   she technically   did   help   in   preparing   diner,   she   did   not   think   that   brushing   a   glaze   onto   the   salmon   really   counted.   Signe   continued   to   enjoy   her   meal,   and   luckily,   had   already   swallowed   when   Charlie   made   a   quip   about   being   good   at   a   lot   of   things.   Her   eyes   darted   to   his   face,   the   heat   in   her   cheeks   rising   immediately   at   that   smile   on   his   lips.  God,   didn’t   she   know   it.   She   knew   far   too   well   how   good   at   things   he   could   be.   She   bumped   her   shoulder   against   his   in   return,   the   ghost   of   a   smile   on   her   face. 

 Finishing   her   plate,   she   set   it   down   on   the   coffee   table   and   curled   back   into   the   couch   and   into   Charlie’s   side,   cradling   her   wine   glass   in   her   hand.   No   matter   how   many   times   she   watched   this   movie,   she   couldn’t   help   the   emotions   that   welled   up   in   her   chest.   Charlie   finished   his   own   food   and   pulled   the   blanket   from   off   the   back   of   the   sofa   to   lay   it   across   their   laps.   Ellie’s   voice   whispers,  "It’s   not   finding   your   other   half.   It’s   the   trying   and   reaching   and   failing.”  Her   fingers   tightened   around   his   hand   beneath   the   blanket,   as   if   anchoring   herself.   Signe   glanced   at   him   from   the   corner   of   her   eye   and   while   Charlie   didn’t   meet   her   gaze,   his   thumb   stroked   over   her   knuckles   a   silent,   reaffirming   gesture. 

 The   painting   scene   was   probably   one   of   Signe’s   favorites.   Aster   in   her   letters   shared   about   something   a   painting   teacher   had   once   told   her,  “The   difference   between   a   good   painting   and   a   great   painting   is   typically   five   strokes.   The   question   is,   of   course,   which   five   strokes?”    The   question   always   seemed   so   oddly   personal   to   Signe   –   a   girl   who   had   spent   her   whole   life   trying   to   identify   those   strokes   and   get   them just   right.   However,   this   was   the   first   time   in   a   long   time   that   she   allowed   herself   to   take   in   the   full   message   of   the   scene   as   Ellie   and   Aster   take   turns   pondering,  “Maybe   that’s   the   thing.   If   you   do   ruin   your   painting,   you   gotta   know   you   have   everything   in   you   to   get   to   that   pretty   good   painting   again.   But   if   you   never   do   the   bold   stroke,   you’ll   never   know   if   you   could’ve   had   a   great   painting.”   That   felt   so   much   like   her,   right   in   that   moment,   with   Charlie.

 For   someone   like   her,   who’d   spent   so   much   of   her   life   being   measured,   composed   and   careful,   Charlie   felt   like   one   of   her bold   strokes.   He’s   warm,   and   chaotic   and   unafraid   to   say   what   he   feels.   Letting   herself   fall   into   this   thing   between   them   was   brave.   The   quote   mirrored   so   many   of   the   silent   risks   she’d   already   taken   with   him   and   Signe   felt   something   catch   in   her   chest.   As   the   movie   progressed,   Charlie   suddenly   sat   up,   gaze   focused   intently   on   the   screen.   Signe   merely   watched   him,   and   smiled   gently   when   he   glanced   her   way.   For   a   moment,   they   just   stared   at   one   another.   Then   she   leaned   in   and   kissed   his   cheek,   almost   at   the   corner   of   his   mouth,   resting   her   forehead   against   his   temple   briefly   before   leaning   back   just   enough   to   settle   against   him   again,   hand   returning   to   his.   There   was   so   many   words   the   swarmed   her   head   and   it   was   too   soon   for   so   many   of   them   to   be   uttered.   So,   Signe   kept   this   moment   and   locked   it   away   in   her   heart   for   the   time   being.   Just   for   herself. 

 The   rest   of   the   movie   played   out,   the   dramatic   climax   at   the   church   scene   and   everything   that   unraveled   afterwards.   Signe   watched   Charlie’s   face   for   his   reactions,   curious   and   filled   with   all   sorts   of   affection   as   he   seemed   to   be   truly   invested   in   her   favorite   movie.   She   wasn’t   sure   if   it   was   for   sure,   but   something   in   his   eyes   told   her   it   wasn’t.   It   only   charmed   her   to   him   even   more.  “So,   what   did   you   think?”   she   asked,   after   Ellie   made   the   decision   to   head   off   to   college,   and   both   Paul   and   Aster   are   set   off   on   their   own   paths   as   well   and   the   credits   rolled.

Charlie gave a breathless chuckle, eyes still half-lidded from the kiss as he reached for his plate. "Technically, that was the appetizer," he said, voice low, still tinged with mischief as he handed her back her plate. "I’m just keepin’ you on your toes." He watched as she took her first bite, lips quirking into a grin when she groaned in satisfaction. There was a moment, brief but unmistakable, where pride settled warm in his chest, right alongside the part of him that couldn’t believe she was really here, cross-legged on his sofa, eating food he’d made for her. When she complimented the meal, her eyes wide and genuine, Charlie shook his head and smiled down at his plate, humbled in the way he always was when praise came without pretense. "Hey, you made it too," he said, bumping her shoulder gently. "You were brilliant back there. Proper sous chef material. Fast learner, good instincts. Might’ve even upstaged me if you weren’t so distracting." He snuck a bite of his salmon, chewed thoughtfully, then looked at her sideways, that slow-burning smile playing at his lips again. "I’m good at a lot of things, y’know."

The opening credits of The Half of It rolled, and conversation drifted into silence. Charlie leaned back, one arm slung across the back of the couch, the other holding his fork. He watched her in the glow of the screen, how she seemed to fold into the film slowly, her fingers curling around the stem of her wine glass, her mouth parted just slightly in quiet concentration. Every now and again, she’d glance at him and then look away quickly, like the story had pulled something out of her she wasn’t ready to name. Somewhere between Ellie’s first voiceover and Paul’s first awkward letter, Charlie had abandoned his nearly-finished plate. The blanket from the back of the couch now rested over both of their laps, his hand finding hers, and without thinking much of it, he let his head rest lightly against her shoulder. He didn’t say anything when the scene played where Ellie helps Paul learn how to talk about love, feeding him lines. But he felt something tighten in his chest when she whispered, "It’s not finding your other half. It’s the trying and reaching and failing." His thumb moved across the top of her hand beneath the blanket.

Charlie sat up slightly as Ellie and Paul’s conversation drifted into something quieter, more honest. Onscreen, Paul was fumbling through his feelings, and Ellie’s words pierced Charlie like they were his own. "What else could I like about her?" Paul began, Ellie replying, "I don’t know. How her eyes look right into yours. How she twirls her hair when she’s reading. How her laugh bursts out like she can’t help herself.. and she stops being so perfect. For just a few moments…” Charlie’s breath hitched. His eyes didn’t leave the screen, but his fingers curled more firmly around Signe’s hand beneath the blanket. "She has at least five different voices. How you can live in an ocean of her thoughts and feel like she knows… like really knows." He turned his head just enough to glance at her, eyes catching hers for a second. No words. Just that steady look and the faintest pull of a smile at the corner of his mouth. Because, yeah. That’s what it felt like. Like being known.

Her   wide   eyes   softened   with   recognition   and   she   gave   him   a   look,   that  Pappa   look,   the   one   that   carried   equal   parts   exasperation   and   affection.   It  was   corny,   but   Signe   might   have   been   the   tiniest   bit   homesick.   Or,   as   homesick   as   one   could   get   just   living   across   town.   Still,   she’d   gladly   jumped   at   the   idea   of   spending   a   few   hours   with   her   dad   and   explore   her   new   neighborhood   in   the   meantime.   She   nudged   him   back   with   her   elbow.  “Pappa,”   she   sighed,   dramatically.   “You   can’t   sneak   up   on   people   like   that.   You’re   too   tall,   it’s   unethical.”   The   painting   in   front   of   her   still   tugged   at   something   within   her   –   something   about   the   use   of   color   that   made   her   wonder   if   she   could   dye   fabrics   to   catch   the   light   in   that   way.   Sometimes   she   envied   the   way   artists   could   make anything   they   envisioned   into   a   reality,   while   she   had   to   work   around   the   restrictions   of   fabric,   stitching   and   technique.   Still,   it   was   those   constraints   that   made   Signe’s   eyes   light   up   with   a   challenge.   God,   she   shouldn’t   have   left   her   sketchbook   at   home.   She   shook   the   thought   off   and   offered   her   father   an   exaggerated   huff.  “I   was   thinking…   maybe   even   being   inspired! And   now,   you’ve   chased   my   muse   away!”  Her   father   dwarfed   her,   being   almost   an   entire   foot   taller   than   her   5’6   and   she   leaned   into   the   familiar   safety   of   his   presence.  “For   your   crimes,   you’re   going   to   have   to   pay   for   fika.”

it   felt   strange   that   life   was   meant   to   just   continue   after   signe   had   left.   it   felt   as   though   a   hole   had   been   blown   in   the   side   of   their   emerald   point   home,   and   søren   had   tried   to   brick   up   the   cavern   only   to   watch   it   fall   again,   and   again,   and   again.   he   wondered   if   sigrid   felt   the   same,   that   they were   missing   some   sort   of   vital   organ   now   that   he   couldn't   hear   the   distant   closing   of   doors   down   the   hallway   and   no   longer   noticed   snacks   being   smuggled   from   the   kitchen   cupboards. it   was   one   of   his   days   off,   and   once   they   had   worked   through   a   flurry   of   dad   jokes   him   and   signe   had   decided   to   meet   up   for   a   few   hours.   a   cup   of   coffee,   some   light   window - shopping,   and   maybe   a   few   treats   from   his   own   back   pocket.   søren   parked   a   good   distance   away   and   walked   to   the   art   district,   soaking   up   the   sunshine   that   was   still   a   novelty   after   ten   years.   sweden   had   been   beautiful,   but   he   couldn't   honestly   say   they   had   much   of   a   summer   back   home. 6'4"   and   with   hair   the   colour   of   wood   ash,   he   wasn't   the   easiest   person   to   ignore.   søren   approached   his   daughter   without   the   intention   of   sneaking   up   on   her,   but   once   he   was   a   few   steps   away   and   still   unnoticed   he   decided   to   reach   into   the   fatherhood   handbook.   the   doctor   hovered   beside   signe   until   she   saw   him,   nudged   her   with   the   point   of   his   elbow   and   chuckled,   “i   don't   know,   are   you ? ”

Celine   lifted   a   hand   to   cover   the   abrupt   laugh   escaped   her   lips   at   the   girl's   disgusted   statement.   She   slipped   the   star-shaped   glasses   onto   her   face   and   smirked   at   the   girl.   "So,   you   are   either   very   lost   or   doing   a   character   study   for   a   role,"   she   said,   giving   the   girl   a   once-over.   There   was   no   judgement   in   her   tone,   just   mild   curiosity   and   wry   amusement.   She   let   the   girl's   dramatic   revulsion   hang   there   for   a   moment   between   them   before   continuing.   "I   mean,   if   the   couches   are   haunted   and   the   air   smells   like   regret,   you   made   it   about   ten   steps   farther   than   I   would   expect."   Celine   continued   browsing   through   the   odd   collection   of   knick   knacks   on   display,   glancing   over   her   shoulder.   "Seriously   though,   what   dragged   you   in   here?   You   look   like   you're   waiting   for   a   tetanus   shot   from   just   standing   there."

magnolia  had  never  stepped  inside  a  secondhand  store  in  her  entire  life  –  until  today.  except,  the fact that it was a secondhand store had completely slipped her mind  until  she'd  spotted  a  pair  of  fake  miu  miu  sunglasses  attempting  to  pass  off  as  the  real  ones.  it  should  have  been  more  obvious  –  retro  roots,  come  on  !  she  could  not  bring  herself  to  touch  anything  inside  the  store,  fearing  the  smell  of  expired  perfume  and  bad  aura  would  cling  onto  her  and  follow  her  home.  a  voice  nearby  broke  the  unsettling  silence  and  magnolia  turned  to  spot  the  source,  eyeing  her  carefully  as  if  buying  herself  some  time  to  filter  out  her  true  thoughts.  she  had  a  habit  of  letting  her,  sometimes  unwarranted,  opinions  slip  –  no  matter  how  harsh.  one  thing  she  could  not  filter  out  were  her  reactions  as  she  continued  to  stare  with  a  look  of  repulsion.  “they  scream  ‘post-divorce  meltdown’  but  to  each  their  own  ?”  oh,  how  she  absolutely  hated  how  high-pitched  her  voice  got  at  the  end  of  that  sentence.  “in  the  literal  sense  of  the  word,  this  is  it  –  my  very  own  personal  nightmare.  this  place  feels  like  cycling  through  your  friend's  exes  or  an  unaired  episode  of  hoarders. let's not even get started on velvet couches.”

Signe   grinned   as   she   watched   Bella   work   her   magic   on   the   bracelet,   finally   forcing   the   knot   into   submission   and   untangling   it.   She   let   out   a   soft,   impressed   laugh   and   shook   her   head.   "I   feel   like   that   has   to   be   a   resume-worthy   skill,   right?"   She   offered   the   girl   a   playful,   half-smile   before   reaching   out   to   accept   the   bracelet.  "Well,   I   am   pretty   well-known   for   my   unwavering   moral   support,"   she   teased,   playing   along.   "It   was   obviously   my   standing   here   and   doing   absolutely   nothing   that   got   us   through   that   whole   ordeal."   Signe   turned   the   bracelet   over   in   her   hands,   smoothing   it   out   now   that   it   was   untangled.   "There   was   a   second   there   I   thought   we   might   have   to   sacrifice   it   to   the   jewelry   gods,"   she   glanced   back   at   Bella,   lifting   an   amused   eyebrow.   "But   no,   you   pulled   through.   My   hero!"   Signe   giggled   and   gently   bumped   her   shoulder   against   Bella's.   "No,   but   seriously.   Thank   you.   I   was   going   to   toss   it   into   the   ocean   and   then   I'd   probably   be   fined   for   littering."

bella  wasn't  really  one  that  liked  to  give  up  on  anything  so  she  was  one  that  would  continue  with  something  until  she  ended  up  getting  it.  and  that's  exactly  what  she  had  been  trying  her  best  to  do  with  this  bracelet  until  the  knot  had  finally  began  to  be  undone.  "  there  we  go!  "  she  responded  as  if  it  was  one  of  her  greatest  accomplishments  that  she  could've  ever  made. wasn't sure how since it really was proving to be difficult. and quite stubborn and knotted up.  "  see  it  was  your  faith  in  me  that  let  me  do  it.  "  she  laughed  jokingly  before  handing  the  bracelet  back  over  to  signe  so  that  she  could  begin  on  what  she  was  planning  on  doing.  "  maybe  it  was  going  to  be  but  i  am  not  one  to  give  up  easily.  or  that  easily.  maybe that was a slight lie since i almost did but we don't have to talk about that. " she'd respond playfully.

Signe   hadn’t   meant   to   let   it   show.   Not   really.   Not   the   little   glances,   not   the   way   her   hand   lingered   beside   his   longer   than   necessary,   not   the   way   her   laugh   escaped   her   so   easily.   But   Charlie   was   leaning   in,   not   just   physically,   but   in   an   open,   fearless   way   that   had   something   in   her   quiet   defenses   cracking.   She   felt   the   tiny   brush   of   his   pinky   against   hers   and   she   held   her   breath.   Her   gaze   flicked   down   briefly   and   then   lifted   back   to   his.   The   breath   she   took   was   barely   audible,   but   it   felt   like   lightning   in   her   chest.  She   was   hyper   aware   of  everywhere   that   he   brushed   against   her   and   it   was   more   than   a   little   infuriating.   She   tried   to   focus   on   the   bounty   of   food   that   he   has   prepared   for   them,   but   it   didn’t   help   much.   His   exaggerated   flailing   had   her   giggling   once   more,   and   only   the   mention   of   his   fashion   disasters   had   stopped   her   laughter.   Signe   immediately   straightened,   eyes   sparkling   at   the   idea.  “I   almost   forgot!   Come,   come,   show   me!”    She   bit   her   lip   to   fight   a   smile   as   he   lamented   his   interrupting   her   creative   process.   It   was   something   she   hadn’t   considered   –   how   much   inspiration   she   gets   from   how   artists   depict   clothing   and   movement   -   and   he   had   noticed   it   without   even   trying.   Her   hand   turned   where   it   rested   next   to   his,   pinky   hooking   with   his   just   slightly.   Not   an   accident   this   time.  Her   gaze   had   been   focused   down   on   their   linked   pinkies   when   he   spoke   again.  You’re   brilliant.   Signe’s   eyes   snapped   up   to   look   at   Charlie,   eyes   wide   at   how   open   the   statement   was.   It   felt   like   it   went   beyond   simple   flirting.   She   felt   the   warmth   rising   in   her   cheeks–too   sudden,   too   real.   His   words   curled   around   her   heart,   and   ached   with   equal   parts   longing   and   fear.   And   it   wasn’t   that   she   didn’t   like   hearing   it–God,   she   did.   His   voice   was   so   earnest,   his   eyes   soft   and   open   in   a   way   that   made   it   hard   to   look   away.   But   that   was   the   thing,   wasn’t   it?   He   didn’t know   her.   Not   really.   Not   yet.  For   a   moment,   she   didn’t   speak   like   she   was   trying   to   figure   out   which   part   of   her   to   offer   him   next.   She   let   out   a   soft,   steadying   breath   and   smiled   gently.   “I   like   this   too,”   she   admitted.  “Being   around   you…you’re…”  She   fought   a   smile. “You’re   really   easy   to   like.”   Signe   was   surprised   by   how   easily   the   words   came   out,   despite   the   nerves   blooming   in   her   stomach.  “I   just…You   don’t   really   know   me   yet.   You’re   seeing   a   version   of   me   that’s–charming,   or   whatever.”  Signe   dropped   her   gaze,   feeling   vulnerable   as   she   was   more   honest   with   him   than   she   normally   was   with   most   people.   “I   guess   I   just   worry   that   if   you   get   past   that…the   rest   might   not   be   what   you   were   expecting.”  In   an   effort   to   ease   some   of   the   tension   between   them,   Signe   looked   back   up   at   him,   a   teasing   smile   gracing   her   lips.  “I   mean,   you   don’t   even   know   my   last   name   yet.”

Charlie could’ve listened to her laugh for hours. There was something about the sound that cut right through him, easy and bright, pulling a smile to his face before he could think to stop it. There was a bounce of playful energy between them, but beneath it was something warmer, steadier.

Her swat at his hand after the teasing tickle made him laugh, the kind of laugh that was unfiltered, childlike, and entirely sincere. He leaned back slightly, raising both hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! Message received. Hands where you can see ’em.” But his grin stayed put, and so did the glint in his eye. “I’ll behave.. for now.” He couldn’t help the way he shifted closer in the moment, legs stretched out toward hers, the spread of food between them giving way to the smaller space they were now sharing. He could feel her hand beside his, so close they brushed against each other as he'd reached to grab a strawberry; his knee bumping against her leg. It wasn’t intentional, not fully, but Charlie wasn’t about to pull back either, after all, he rationalized to himself, they were where she could see them.

And then she started talking about her parents. That fondness in her voice hit him somewhere deep in the chest. The way she spoke about their love, their support, it sounded so easy coming from her lips. He listened, picking at the food in front of them with absent hands, but his focus never drifted. His gaze stayed locked on her, quiet admiration softening his features. “Sounds like you hit the jackpot there,” he spoke softly, the smile on his lips genuine but touched with something deeper around the edges. “You know, havin’ people who back you like that… who make it easy to believe in yourself.” He didn’t add not everyone gets that. Didn’t need to. It sat there, unspoken, in the small pause that followed.

When she gave him that playful shove to the shoulder, Charlie leaned into the dramatics again, tipping himself back with a groan like she’d knocked the wind out of him. “Oi! Tryin’ to take me out before I can show off my terrible fashion choices?” His laugh filled the space between them, light and easy, but his eyes stayed soft on her. It was the way she told her story honestly, no bravado, just the kind of quiet passion that made him feel lucky to be listening; that had him leaning in closer without even realizing. His pinky brushed against hers as he adjusted, and this time, he let it stay. Let it slide over, slow and deliberate, his hand shifting just enough that the side of his finger rested against hers fully.

He felt it when she noticed. Felt the small intake of breath, and that crooked smile of his softened into something gentler, something almost shy. “I’m guessin’ that’s why you were starin’ at that painting, yeah?” His voice lowered, teasing but tender. “Caught you right in the middle of your creative epiphany, did I?” Then, leaning back just slightly, but not enough to break the closeness between them, he raised a brow, feigning horror. “Shit… wait. Did I interrupt your whole process? Could’ve stopped the world from experiencin’ the next great piece of fashion. You’ll have to put me in the acknowledgments now, yeah? ‘Dedicated to the lad who ruined my artistic vision by flirtin’ too hard.’” The smirk curved at the edges of his lips, but there was no mistaking the warmth in his eyes. The way he looked at her like he saw all of her, not just the polish she might’ve meant to present.

When he spoke again, his voice dropped into something softer, more honest. “I mean it, though. The way you talk about it.. The way your face lights up… It’s brilliant, Signe. You’re brilliant.” There was that voice in the back of his head, the one that always told him to stay guarded, to keep it cool, to never lean too soft. But tonight, Charlie let himself ignore it. Because he was learning, slowly and stubbornly that gentleness and vulnerability weren’t weaknesses. They were the strongest things he could offer. "I might be comin' on strong, here.. I just don't wanna mess this up.. I like this.. you. I like you."

[ … ] ❀ you’re not from around here , are you? i figured because you totally just missed { OPHELIA JANE YOUNG  } walking by. don’t tell me you don’t know who { SHE } is ? they kind of look like { SOPHIE COOKSON } and i could be wrong but i think that they might be { 31 } years old right now. they’ve been living in palmview for the last { 10 YEARS }. and i don’t know if anyone has ever told them this before but they kind of remind me of { DAISY JONES } from { DAISY JONES AND THE SIX }. if you stick around the town long enough you might catch them in action working at { MANGO BAY RECORD STORE } as a { SALES CLERK }. you see this town isn’t really that big of a place, some folks like to call them the { THE MISFIT } of palmview! they took a liking to the name too after a while, go figure. oh crap, they must have heard me yapping. they’re coming this way. i got to warn you though, rumor has it they can pretty { CYNICAL } at times. i wouldn’t take it too seriously though, from the times i’ve spoken to them they seemed pretty { PASSIONATE } to me. we see each other all the time since they live in that { 2 BEDROOM } apartment beside me over in { CORAL COVE }. i better leave you to it. it was nice meeting you!  { KRYS. 32. SHE/HER. EST. }

𝓲. 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚜

name: ophelia jane young nickname(s): lia age: thirty1 birthday: 15 july 1993 gender/pronouns: cis woman + she/her sexuality: pansexual occupation: sales clerk at mango bay record store residence: harborview residences #4C time in palmview: 10 years

𝓲𝓲. 𝚝𝚕𝚍𝚛

ophelia jane young grew up just outside of chicago, raised by her steady, loving father after her free-spirited mother walked out when she was five. the emotional void left by her mother shaped much of her early life, as did the bullying she endured throughout school for her eccentric style and quiet nature. she found solace in music, which became both her refuge and her voice. after thriving in college in new york ( and falling in and out of her first real love ) ophelia fled heartbreak by relocating to palmview, florida. she works at the mango bay record store and plays local gigs, still chasing the dream she's nurtured since childhood, but increasingly uncertain about what comes next.

full bio here.

𝓲𝓲𝓲. 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

🎸 open mic confidant – a fellow local musician she regularly shares sets and cigarettes with—someone who truly gets the grind 🎸 the one that got away – a former love from her nyc days who shows up in palmview unexpectedly, reigniting unresolved feelings 🎸 coworker turned co-dreamer – someone at the record store who challenges her creative stagnation and pushes her toward risk 🎸 the muse – someone who sees something in ophelia she can’t yet see in herself; either a new crush or an infuriatingly inspiring friend 🎸 the skeptic – someone who questions her choices, unintentionally forcing her to define what she actually wants 🎸 musical collaborator – a person she starts writing or performing with, whose energy shifts how she approaches her own art 🎸 ghost of a past life – a figure from college or childhood who shows up just as she’s trying to move forward, complicating everything 🎸 neighbors 🎸 roommate 🎸 former crushes/flings/exes 🎸 current crushes 🎸 college friends 🎸 work friends/coworkers 🎸 i'm up for anything!! just DM me!

Signe   glanced   over   the   man’s   bracelet   and   bit   back   a   smile,   offering   her   own   half-finished   bracelet   over   to   him. “Honestly?   I   still   think   you’re   doing   better   than   me,” she   said   with   a   soft   laugh.   She   watched   him,   the   way   he   carefully   worked   through   the   knot   in   her   thread. “Thanks,”   she   murmured,   not   just   for   the   assistance   but   for   the   encouraging   words. “I   think   I   needed   that   reminder.” The   truth   was,   she had   been   taking   the   task   a   little   too   seriously.   It   came   second   nature   to   her   to   approach   each   task   as   if   it   were   life   or   death.   She   exerted   the   effort   because   the   bracelets   felt   like   an   apology   for   the   time   she   hadn’t   been   able   to   spend   with   her   friends   lately.   There   had   been   a   lot   of   trying,   but   not   a   lot   of   succeeding.   Signe   often   expected   perfection   when   no   one   else   demanded   it   of   her. “At   the   end   of   the   day,   it is   the   thought   that   counts.   Although,   I   can’t   say   my   ego   hasn’t   taken   a   hit   for   being   out done   by   a   bunch   of   string.”

"I don't know how much help I'll be," Isaiah wasn't faring much better, clearly having learned nothing from the jewelry making class the community put on not too long ago, "but I can certainly try." He gently set aside the mess of a friendship bracelet he was attempting to put together to lend the other a hand. "I was thinking the same thing about the one I was working on, but I think I'll still end up finishing it." He commented as he worked on untangling the string for the other. "Then again, I don't expect my friends to actually wear these, so a few imperfections on my end aren't going to be the end of the world." He figured whatever friendship bracelets he gave away by the end of the night would simply be silly little trinkets his friends could store away somewhere, just a soft reminder that they were on his mind even when busy schedules kept them from hanging out as much as he'd like. "And if they do end up wearing them, then I'd assume they likely care more about the thought behind them rather than how they end up looking." His words were a gentle recommendation to not take the activity too seriously.

She   giggled   softly   to   herself,   amused   by   how   much   a   single   word   affected   him.   Signe   bumped   her   hip   against   his   with   a   playful   grin.  “Well,  Charlie,”   she   said,   drawing   out   the   syllables   of   his   name.  “You   know   I’m   only   looking   at   you   like   that   because   you   make   it   impossible   not   to.”   Their   bantering   had   grown   more   playful,   more   flirtatious   since   their   first   date.   Which   made   sense   considering   the   boundaries   that   she’d   dissolved   so   quickly   in   his   presence.   And   yet,   it   still   surprised   her   –   how   easy   it   was   to   be   a   less   curated   version   of   her.   Like   he   saw   past   all   of   her   facades   to   the   girl   underneath   and   he   didn’t   balk   at   any   of   it.   It   was   intoxicating.   His   ears   had   flushed   pink   as   he   teased   her   and   Signe   could   only   smile   at   the   sight. He   gestured   towards   the   wine   fridge   and   Signe   nodded,   wiping   her   hands   on   a   spare   dish   towel   and   getting   ready   to   cross   the   kitchen,   when   he   gently   pulled   her   back.   His   lips   were   on   hers   and   Signe   instinctively   melted   into   his   embrace.   A   little   stunned,   she   doesn’t   rush   it   or   pull   away   too   fast.   She   merely   stays   close,   her   hand   placed   on   his   chest,   her   thumb   brushing   lightly   along   the   fabric   of   his   shirt,   anchoring   herself   in   the   moment.   Charlie   pulled   away   and   her   eyes   remained   close   for   a   moment   longer,   savoring   it   before   she   blinked   at   him   slowly.  “That   was   so   rude,”   she   murmured   once   she   found   her   voice   again.  “You   can’t   just   kiss   me   like   that   and   then   go   back   to   casually   chopping   vegetables.  Jesus.”  While   the   words   were   aimed   at   him,   she   wasn’t   truly   expecting   a   response.   There   was   no   heat   in   her   words,   just   the   warm   glow   of   affection.  She   moved   toward   the   wine   fridge,   casting   a   glance   over   her   shoulder   at   him.   He’s   back   at   his   task,   but   smiling   to   himself.   It   was   moments   like   that   –   his   hand   finding   the   small   of   her   back,   the   offhand   kiss   that   left   her   blinking   at   the   wine   fridge   like   she   forgot   why   she   opened   it   –   they   meant   so   much   to   her.   Her   hand   hovered   over   the   bottles   before   she   settled   on   one   with   a   pale   pink   label.   She   notices   the   way   he   looks   at   her.   Notices   before   whenever   she   turns   to   look   at   him,   he’s   already   looking   back.   Signe   was   scared   of   getting   use   to   the   feeling.   What   if   a   day   came   when   he   saw   all   of   her?   The   parts   of   her   that   doubt   joy   and   second   guess   everything.   What   if   that   day   came   and   he   changed   his   mind? Signe   allowed   herself   to   look   at   him   again–his   hair   messy   from   running   damp   fingers   through   it,   his   sleeves   pushed   up,   and   that   ridiculous   little   smile   on   his   face   like   he knew   she   was   watching.   Something   inside   of   her   quieted   at   the   sight   of   that   smile.   She   liked   him   so   much,   and   she   wasn't   going   to   ruin   that   by   over   fixating. With   the   wine   selected,   she   walked   back   over   to   Charlie,   holding   the   bottle   up.    “Did   you   want   to   open   it,   or   should   I?   I   can   do   it   if   you   point   me   in   the   direction   of   your   finest   bottle   opener,”   she   teased.

Charlie let out a low laugh, shaking his head as he rinsed his hands. "Nah, Signe. You don’t say it like my coworkers do. If they said it like you, we'd have an HR complaint on our hands... Don’t call me chef unless ya want me to start barkin’ orders or critique your knife skills." He glanced back at her with a grin, the warmth in his voice unmistakable. "Just call me Charlie. That’s already more than enough." There was a beat where he looked at her again, saw that wicked little glint in her eye, and smirked. "Though for the record.. if you keep lookin’ at me like that and sayin’ things with that mouth... I have a hard enough time with one knee. You might knock 'em both out from under me." He raised a brow, "Right, right.. movin’ on," he laughed, hands raised in mock surrender, the tips of his ears just the tiniest bit pink.

He took the bowl from beside her and turned toward the sink, but as always, he didn’t stay away long. There was a pull to her. Undeniable. Like gravity had adjusted to her. "Whatever you put together, I’ll love it," he added more softly now, rinsing the bowl. "I like that you cared enough to stress over it. It means something. That’s all I’ll say or I’ll start gettin’ sappy and you’ll mock me." He bumped her elbow lightly with his own as he returned, moving beside her to start chopping the vegetables. His fingers worked confidently, effortlessly, but his eyes flicked to her with every few slices, like he couldn’t help it.

"Why don’t you head over to the wine fridge?" he asked, nodding in its general direction with his chin, knife still in hand. "I’ve got a few different moscatos chillin’ in there. They’re all kind of the same, but go with whichever label speaks to you." Then he paused, completely mid-chop. "Oh.. wait." He reached for her hand, a gentle tug drawing her toward him in one smooth motion. No rush, just closeness. Just him. And then he leaned in and kissed her like it was something he’d been meaning to do all evening. Nothing dramatic. Just warm, certain, and grounding.

When he pulled back, there was a spark of mischief in his own smile now, but something tender beneath it too. "Just realized I hadn’t done that yet. Didn’t want it hangin’ over my head while you were choosin’ wine," he said lightly, going back to chopping as if he hadn’t just completely short-circuited his own train of thought. His voice was a little quieter after that, but no less sincere. "Glad you like bein’ here, by the way. Feels natural to me, too. Like we didn’t have to work at it. Just… fit." He glanced over again, this time pausing the movement of his knife. "And if your playlist’s even half as thoughtful as your outfit, I know I’m in for it. Might cry. Might fake cry for sympathy. No tellin’, really." He nudged her gently with his shoulder again, eyes lingering on hers. "Go on, then. Pick the wine. I’ll try not to burn anything while you’re gone."