𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆.

　꒰ঌ ⸝⸝ profile.

full  name.  isobel  reyes;  meaning  pledged  to  god.  pronunciation.  iz-uh-bel  reh-ess.  nicknames.  bel, bella.  date  of  birth.  january  11,  2000.  age.  twenty  -  six.  place  of  birth.  willow  glen,  texas.  ethnicity  &  nationality.  mexican  &  white (scottish)  /  american.  spoken  languages.  english,  spanish.  occupation.  law  student, going into her final year in september.  pets.  tba.

　꒰ঌ ⸝⸝ favorites.

scents.  black  tea,  amber,  sandalwood,  vanilla,  and  floral.  food.  chilaquiles, tamales, green smoothies, apple slices with peanut butter.  movies.  interstellar,  look  back,  in the mood for love, fallen angels, chungking express (any wong kar - wai film honestly).  games.  those  silly  mindless  phone  games.  love  language.  acts  of  service,  gift  giving.

　꒰ঌ ⸝⸝ personality.

personality.  intense,  perceptive,  and  difficult  to  fully  understand.  despite  her  reputation  for  being  cunning,  she  is  far  more  compassionate  than  she  lets  on,  often  noticing  the  small  details  about  people  that  they  would  rather  keep  hidden.  she  can  be  warm  and  affectionate  with  those  she  trusts,  but  years  of  witnessing  her  father’s  behavior  have  made  her  guarded  and  distrustful  of  anyone  who  gets  too  close  too  quickly.

quirks.  keeps  old  newspaper  clippings  tucked  away  in  books,  rewrites  texts  several  times  before  sending  them,  stays  up  too  late  researching  topics  she  can’t  stop  thinking  about,  collects  handwritten  notes  and  letters,  reads  the  last  page  of  a  book  before  deciding  whether  she  wants  to  finish  it,  reorganizes  her  bookshelf  when  she  needs  to  clear  her  head.

habits.  straightens  papers  when  she’s  stressed,  lowers  her  voice  instead  of  raising  it  when  she’s  angry,  touches  up  her  appearance  before  public  events  even  when  she  doesn’t  care  about  being  perceived,  asks  if  people  are  okay  until  she’s  convinced  they’re  telling  the  truth.

likes.  handwritten  love  letters  and  recipes,  old  vinyl  records,  foreign  films,  bookstores  that  smell  like  dust  and  paper,  rainy  drives,  art  galleries,  documentaries,  thrifted  coats,  farmer’s  markets,  taking  the  long  way  home.

dislikes.  being  interrupted,  meaningless  apologies,  people  who  talk  just  to  hear  themselves,  rushed  mornings,  losing  arguments  because  someone  refuses  to  listen,  unnecessary  phone  calls,  having  her  picture  taken  when  she  isn’t  prepared.

hobbies.  collecting  antique  books,  visiting  museums  and  art  galleries,  writing  letters,  volunteering  around  town,  pilates,  exploring  small  cafés,  keeping  a  personal  journal,  researching  local  history,  learning  new  skills  just  for  the  sake  of  it.

　꒰ঌ ⸝⸝ lore.

isobel  reyes  was  born  into  a  home  that,  by  every  measure,  seemed  idyllic.  it  was  warm,  loving,  and  secure,  the  kind  of  childhood  most  people  spent  their  lives  wishing  they  had.  for  years,  she  believed  it  was  enough.  only  later  did  she  realize  that  love  could  exist  alongside  absence,  and  that  even  the  happiest  homes  could  leave  someone  longing  for  what  they  never  truly  had.

before  she  understood  why  strangers  recognized  her  father  or  why  his  face  appeared  in  newspapers,  he  was  simply  her  dad.  to  her,  he  was  the  man  who  tied  her  shoes,  smelled  faintly  of  coffee  and  old  books,  and  promised  he'd  be  home  before  the  stars  came  out.  she  believed  every  promise  without  question.

growing  up,  she  was  taught  that  her  father's  work  mattered.  every  missed  dinner,  every  canceled  plan,  every  empty  chair  at  the  table  was  explained  as  a  sacrifice  for  something  bigger  than  himself.  she  accepted  it  because  she  loved  him,  believing  that  one  day  there  would  be  time  for  the  family  he'd  spent  so  many  years  putting  second.

despite  everything,  her  childhood  was  never  unhappy.  she  was  loved  deeply.  that  was  what  made  the  distance  so  difficult  to  explain.  there  was  never  a  lack  of  affection,  only  a  father  who  always  seemed  to  belong  to  everyone  else  before  he  belonged  to  her.

as  she  grew  older,  she  never  inherited  his  love  for  politics  or  his  ability  to  command  a  room.  instead,  she  found  herself  drawn  to  law.  it  felt  like  the  closest  language  they  could  share,  a  way  of  following  in  his  footsteps  without  disappearing  beneath  his  shadow.  more  than  anything,  she  wanted  to  become  someone  who  made  him  proud.

beneath  every  achievement  was  the  quiet  hope  that  one  day  he  would  finally  have  time  for  her.  some  part  of  her  never  stopped  being  the  little  girl  waiting  by  the  window  for  the  sound  of  his  car  pulling  into  the  driveway.

years  later,  while  studying  law,  she  uncovered  evidence  that  campaign  funds  entrusted  to  her  father  had  been  misused.

what  devastated  her  wasn't  discovering  corruption.  it  was  realizing  the  man  she  had  spent  her  life  believing  in  wasn't  better  than  the  political  world  he  claimed  to  stand  above.

she  could  have  hidden  the  truth.  she  could  have  buried  the  evidence  and  protected  him.  instead,  she  chose  to  report  what  she  found,  believing  justice  only  had  meaning  if  it  applied  equally  to  the  people  she  loved.

her  decision  was  never  driven  by  hatred.  if  anything,  it  came  from  hope.  somewhere  deep  down,  she  believed  that  if  politics  was  taken  away  from  him,  he  might  finally  come  back  to  her.  she  never  wanted  to  destroy  his  dream.  she  only  wanted,  for  once,  to  be  chosen  over  it.

the  scandal  ended  his  hopes for excelling in his political career.  although  he  retained a position within government departments and managed to survive the public fallout,  something  inside  him  never  truly  recovered.  watching  him  lose  the  purpose  that  had  defined  his  life  became  its  own  kind  of  punishment,  one  she  never  expected  to  witness.

isobel  has  never  regretted  choosing  the  truth,  but  she  has  never  stopped  grieving  what  that  choice  cost.  she  knows  accountability  is  not  cruelty  and  that  love  does  not  erase  wrongdoing.  still,  she  made  that  decision  as  his  daughter  before  she  made  it  as  a  lawyer,  and  that  is  a  burden  no  one  else  can  fully  understand.

　꒰ঌ ⸝⸝ profile.

full name. fiadh chae; meaning wild / deer. pronunciation. fee-ah chay. nicknames. fia, fee. date of birth. june sixth, 2001. age. twenty - five. place of birth. galway, ireland. she moved to willow glen at the age of nineteen. ethnicity & nationality. korean / irish - american. spoken languages. english, gaeilge, korean. occupation. dallas cowboys cheerleader. education. bachelor of film from north texas university. pets. one white ragdoll cat named bingsu and one tuxedo cat named pingu.

　꒰ঌ ⸝⸝ favorites.

scents. warm vanilla perfume, white gardenia, jasmine, pear blossom. food. buldak ramen, caesar salad, garlic parmesan fries, freshly baked cookies. movies. past lives, eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, frankenstein (2025), ratatouille. games. silent hill, resident evil, marvel rivals. colors. reds, pinks, greens. love language. quality time, words of affirmation, acts of service, physical touch.

　꒰ঌ ⸝⸝ personality.

personality. effortlessly charming, quick - witted, intelligent, and notices details others overlook. at first glance, she seems open and easy to know, but she's guarded by nature, doesn't readily share information about herself, and rarely asks for help even when she needs it.

quirks. always checks the weather before bed, remembers obscure facts but forgets everyday tasks, keeps movie tickets long after the films are forgotten, sleeps with a fan running even in winter, sets fifteen alarm clocks to wake herself up.

habits. fidgets with her necklace and hides her hands in her sleeves when she's nervous, chews on straws and crunches ice after finishing a drink, can't start the day without coffee, spends exactly fifteen minutes stretching as soon as she wakes up, and puts everything in her calendar because otherwise she'll forget.

likes. rainstorms, crystal necklaces, melancholic music, cats, midnight drives, candlelight, horror films, perfume samples, soft sweaters, reality tv, long walks, bittersweet love stories, finding beauty in ordinary moments.

dislikes. dishonesty, hot weather, lukewarm coffee, forced small talk, bright fluorescent lighting, people who mistake cruelty for honesty, empty promises, abrupt goodbyes, the silence after an argument.

hobbies. dancing, dream journaling, pressing flowers, collecting perfumes, writing poetry, gaming, pilates, reading classic literature, watching movies and shows, photography, sewing and altering clothes, keeping old mementos from important moments.

꒰ঌ ⸝⸝ lore.

born in the midst of one of the worst rainstorms galway had ever seen, it seemed only fitting that her parents named her fiadh, a quiet homage to the wild heart they believed she carried from the start. perhaps it should have come as no surprise, then, that she would become the first in her family to stray from the life so carefully prepared for her.

the  chaes  were  the  sort  of  family  people  only  ever  encountered  through  reputation.  their  name  carried  the  kind  of  quiet  influence  that  never  needed  announcing,  attached  to  luxury  hotels  overlooking  the  wild  atlantic,  restored  estates  scattered  across  ireland,  and  a  hospitality  group  whose  reach  extended  far  beyond  galway.  by  the  time  chae  dohyun  brought  the  company  west  from  south  korea,  it  had  already  earned  a  reputation  throughout  asia  for  preserving  historic  properties  without  sacrificing  the  comforts  expected  of  modern  luxury.  ireland  became  its  european  home,  and  over  the  years  the  chae  name  settled  into  galway  as  though  it  had  always  belonged  there.  alongside  him,  niamh  lee  built  a  career  as  one  of  the  city's  most  respected  barristers,  moving  effortlessly  through  the  same  circles  where  business,  politics,  and  old  money overlapped.

dohyun  and  niamh  understood  the  value  of  legacy  better  than  anyone.  in  their  world,  success  was  measured  by  what  could  be  left  behind.  businesses  could  grow,  fortunes  could  change,  but  a  family  name  endured  only  so  long  as  each  generation  understood  the  responsibility  of  carrying  it  forward.  every  decision  reflected  upon  the  people  who  had  come  before  them,  and  naturally,  those  same  expectations  followed  them  into  their  own family home.

fiadh  grew  up  surrounded  by  things  that  had  lasted  because  someone  had  decided  they  were  worth  preserving.  portraits  of  relatives  hung  in  the  family  home  long  after  the  people  in  them  were  gone,  silver  was  polished  before  it  had  the  chance  to  tarnish,  and  every  dinner  seemed  to  become  another  conversation  about  responsibility,  reputation,  or  the  future  of  the  business.  there  was  an  understanding  that  nothing  meaningful  was  ever  left  to  chance.

her  older  brother,  rian, had  always  understood  the  world  they  belonged  to and  moved  through  it  with  an  ease  their  parents  admired.  he was able to speak  comfortably  with  investors,  politicians,  and  executives  twice  his  age,  never  appearing  burdened  by  the  expectations  waiting  for  him.  people  admired  him  because  he  embodied  everything  the  chaes  had  spent  decades  building:  discipline,  composure,  and  confidence  that  seemed  natural.

fiadh  never  found  that  same  ease.  it  was  never  a  matter  of  intelligence, as she  had  inherited  enough  of  that  to  satisfy  anyone  looking  from  the  outside.  the  problem  was  that  she  could  never  be  shaped  into  something  predictable.  she  laughed  too  loudly,  spoke  too  honestly,  and  wore  her  heart  too  close  to  the  surface.  where  her  brother  understood  that  diplomacy  often  mattered  more  than  sincerity,  fiadh  had  always  struggled  to  separate  the  two.

if  her  brother  was  the  future  everyone  expected,  fiadh  often  felt  like  the  question  no  one  quite  knew  how  to  answer.  every  conversation  seemed  to  end  with  another  suggestion,  another  correction,  another  reminder  that  she  could  be  extraordinary  if  only  she  learned  to  become  someone  slightly  different  from  herself.

by  the  time  she  reached  eighteen,  conversations  about  her  future  no  longer  felt  theoretical.  there had always been introductions to the sons of families like theirs, exchanged over charity galas, fundraising dinners, and business functions where every conversation seemed to carry an unspoken purpose. eventually, one of those introductions settled into something far more permanent and everyone agreed it was a perfect match.

their  families  complemented  one  another  in  every  way  that  mattered.  together  they  would  strengthen  longstanding  business  relationships,  preserve  decades  of  trust,  and  secure  a  future  that  had  already  been  imagined  long  before  either  of  them  was  asked  what  they  wanted.  friends  offered  congratulations,  colleagues  praised  the  union,  and her  parents  spoke  about  the  wedding  with  the  underlying  satisfaction  of  people  watching  years  of  careful  planning  finally  come  together. the  only  people  who  seemed  unconvinced  were  the  two  expected  to  stand  at  the  altar.

the sad part was that there  was  nothing  cruel  about  him.  if  anything,  that  made  everything  harder.  he  was  thoughtful,  patient,  and unfailingly kind, giving her every reason to believe that she could grow to enjoy the life everyone had imagined for them. somewhere along the way, what had begun as an obligation turned into something genuine for him. he fell in love with fiadh slowly over time, leaving her with guilt. she tried, more than once, to convince herself that with time she would eventually learn to love him back. but no amount of patience could turn affection into the kind of love he deserved.

fiadh  could  already  picture  the  life  waiting  for  her  if  she  stayed.  board  meetings  she  never  wanted  to  attend,  charity  committees  she  would  eventually  be  expected  to  chair,  children  who  would  inherit  expectations  before  they  were  old  enough  to  understand  them,  a  husband  she  admired  but  could  never  truly  love.

walking  away  meant  disappointing  her  family,  humiliating  another,  breaking the heart of the man she was supposed to marry, and becoming  the  subject  of  every  whispered  conversation  that  drifted  through  galway's  social  circles.  and yet, staying  meant  surrendering  a  future  that  had  never  truly  belonged  to  her.

so  she  left.

willow  glen  had  never  been  part  of  a  carefully  considered  plan and that  was  precisely  why  she  chose  it.  it  was  far  enough  away  that  nobody  cared  about  the  chae  name.  for  the  first  time,  she  found  herself  somewhere  she  could  simply  be  fiadh,  without  the  weight  of  everything  her  surname  was  supposed  to  mean.

what  surprised  her  most  was  rediscovering  the  parts  of  herself  she  had  once  considered  insignificant.  she  had  always  loved  dance,  though  it  was  never  something  her  family  viewed  as  anything  more  than  a  hobby.  to  fiadh,  it  was  an  outlet  where  she  could  express  herself  without  worrying  about  whether  every  movement  was  graceful  enough,  polished  enough,  or  worthy  of  the  name  she  carried.

during  her  first  year  in  willow  glen,  that  passion  brought  her  to  cheerleading.  what  began  as  something  she  joined  for  fun  while  studying  film  became  something  far  more  meaningful.  it  gave  her  a  sense  of  belonging  she  had  spent  years  searching  for,  a  community  where  she  was  valued  for  what  she  could  contribute  rather  than  what  she  represented.  for  once,  she  was  not  performing  for  her  family,  for  business  partners,  or  for  a  room  full  of  people  measuring  whether  she  lived  up  to  their  expectations.  she  was  performing  because  she  wanted  to.