aesthetics ...

a doll imitating a woman imitating a doll, smeared lipstick, your illuminated silhouette at the center of the room, pink bubblegum stuck to the bottom of a stiletto, the purr of an expensive engine underneath your arched back, black spots in your vision after a camera flashes, the acrid smell of blown out candles on a birthday cake, the feeling of somebody else running their fingers through your hair, a collection of phone numbers scrawled across napkins, blooming to life only when you're being looked at, snow angels on the porch of a house you haven't seen in years, vodka inside disposable coffee cups, mascara streaked tears in the back of the taxi, a closet overflowing with previous lives, stranger's hands across your body the only intimacy you've ever known, a cracked compact mirror, only ever booking one way tickets, a bloody nose dripping onto silk camisoles, calls that always go unanswered, the drunken blur of city lights, fingers crossed behind your back when you make a promise.

              statistics …

full name. maude avery. meaning of name. of german origin, meaning mighty or powerful. nicknames. mads, hollywood; racing world alias. date of birth & age. october 25th & twenty6. zodiac. scorpio sun, leo moon. gender & pronouns. cis woman & she/her. orientation. bisexual. place of birth. buffalo, new york. ethnicity. inuvialuit. current residence. miami, florida. occupation. former runway model, current import model for the rodani prowlers and waitress. traits. magnetic, determined, innovative, disarming, persuasive; reticent, volatile, possessive, insecure, haughty. click here for more (tba)!

               about …

     # partonebuffalo

TW:  brief  mentions  of  divorce, emotional abuse, death, and substance abuse. by the time maude took her very first breath, the illusion of her parent's marriage was already over. they'd married too young, too fast, practically still kids themselves when they'd decided to have one of their own. if her job was to be their band aid, then maude had failed spectacularly, her father packing up for california the dreary december after her third birthday. but being left behind had a silver lining: in need of support, her mother shuffled the two of them onto a plane heading for her hometown across the canadian border. inuvik wasn't lonely or empty the way their home in buffalo had become. there she played freely, felt loved, cushioned by a culture her grandparents worked hard to pass down. every visit had maude dreading the inevitable return to new york, and every return had her counting down the days until she'd be back in the arctic again. for a while, she lived suspended in her two worlds— until her mother fell in love again. a bigwig banker from downtown, this time. nothing like your father is what her mother would say, but what did those words mean to maude when all she'd ever known of the man who created her was the birthday cards he'd kept mailing for the last decade? she was only thirteen, too young to understand the way history was repeating, even when her mother came home from one date night with a ring on her finger. he moved in the next day, the man who smiled in a way that twisted her stomach even then when he said call me stepdad, words that should have been a question delivered as a clear demand. his first of many, maude would realize, but what power did a teenage girl really have, anyway? she could only watch as he rearranged their lives the way he'd rearranged their furniture, erasing pieces of her mother bit by bit as he did it. the wave of resentment building inside her heart broke a little after the autumn she'd turned sixteen. finally back in inuvik after two years of not visiting, the longest her mother and she had ever gone since maude was three, maude thought maybe her luck was changing. it was on her stepdad's insistence the trip had even happened. stay positive, her grandmother had whispered, wiping the tears she'd only ever let loose in front of the older woman. but at dinner that night came the news that would shatter the last bits of serenity she had. her mother was pregnant, and this would be their last trip to inuvik. i have to focus on my family is what her mother would tell her later, to which an inconsolable maude had pleaded then what am i? the day the three of them flew back to buffalo, she tore through her room like a hurricane in search of two things: her father's phone number, and the crumpled-up card of the modeling agency that her stepfather had made her swear to throw away.

     # parttwonewyorkcity

starting a new life should have been terrifying. she was an angel dropped into the concrete jungle, a girl forced into the role of a woman long before she became one. modeling was like nothing maude had ever experienced before, and new york city was nothing like buffalo. maybe it was naive to think her intentions could remain uncorrupted, that she could earn enough money to fly back and live with her grandparents the way she'd promised her father she would when he'd agreed to sign off on the parental consent her agency needed— because temptation was everywhere, and freedom was sickly sweet. she gorged herself on it those first two years, every indulgence a crack of purity. you can have it all, maude. every faceless photographer promised, every seasoned model swore it, every dollar she earned made her believe it. and being looked at? it was a drug more potent than anything she could try at a lofty manhattan penthouse house party. it was electrifying; and it was all hers. fashion wasn't something she'd been interested in beyond the vague way many little girls who'd grown up playing dress-up were. modeling changed that. she fell in love with the clothes, and the designers fell in love with her. misplaced desperation made for a hell of a work ethic. the higher maude rose, the further she grew from the promise that'd first brought her to the city. she was a swan shedding her downy feathers, a snake growing into her new skin. inuvik was the distant fantasy land inside a child's imagination, and she'd outgrown her princess crown, had bartered it away for runways and billboards, a trade she could convince herself was fair the deeper she ingrained herself into this new world. because among the grit, there was comfort, too. opulence like she'd never had before. maybe she'd been too greedy. maybe she'd mistaken her luck for something she was allowed to keep, unbeknownst of the ticking clock that ran beneath it. the reality was somewhat less poetic— in an effort to outrun everything and everyone that had a hand in crafting the fabric of her being, she'd ended up just like her mother at the mercy of a man ready to set fire to her waxen wings. a designer who'd long lauded her as his muse, who could slam every single one of the doors she'd worked hard to open up back shut if he so wanted to, who never met a shiny thing he didn't want to lock away forever. the turbulence was no longer entrancing; the wool was only lifted from her eyes when the beartrap was about to snap shut and saw her legs clean off. it was her last fashion show, and her most memorable one while it lasted, before the thrall of beautifully confused models in vandalized designs was shuffled away from a crowd of hungry eyes. every piece of clothing ruined, her imprint everywhere. and maude did what she new best: she ran away.

     # partthreemiami

miami is chosen on a whim, on blurred memories of a trip she can hardly remember. more enticing was the fact that it was as far as she could get the fastest and cheapest. ten years is packed into one suitcase, mostly clothes and shoes, a designer bag she pawns the same day her plane touches down. but miami is nothing like new york city; it's too hot, too unforgiving, barren and absent of hands to prop her up, even if those same hands longed to exploit her. there was no going back to buffalo, where the brother she'd never met was almost old enough to run out of fingers to count his age with. there was no going back to inuvik, where the winter after she'd turned twenty-three had claimed the lives of two cousins and her grandfather. there was only this new city, this new life. maude would make it work; it didn't matter what it took. by the time she finds the prowlers, she'd almost made it a year on her own. modeling of any kind was a welcome relapse, like returning back to a favorite drug after a long stint at sobriety. the rest is still foreign to her. cars, racing, rivalry— the words don't mean much, yet the people make her curious. the stability makes her nauseous. but the attention? the attention strokes that old hunger, igniting like the rev of an engine, the kind that promises there's still more to take, that maybe her wings haven't been clipped, after all.

            personality & tidbits …

the human embodiment of a matryoshka doll. you think you're getting to know her, that you've peeled back a layer, only to realize you'll never hit her center. this is less because she's reticent (though trust me, she is!) and more because maude kinda has no idea who the hell she is anymore.

earned  herself  the  alias  HOLLYWOOD once people caught onto the fact she used to be a pretty successful model after they kept finding her pictures in magazines. she treats it like a big joke, but deep down she kinda hates being reminded of everything she lost. deeply appreciates that being a runaway runway model is of little consequence in the racing world, at least.

hasn't been loyal to a single person since she was sixteen, and is only vaguely working on it. i kinda imagine this is the first time since then she's been in a place where loyalty is not only valued, but also reflected. she doesn't know what to do with all that, though!

pretty and she knows it 🙂‍↕️ flirting is her default, even when she doesn't want you, maybe especially when she doesn't want you. sometimes she treats it like a game, seeing how many people she can get to want her. very much that one "cleo’s like a cat...she can touch you, but you can’t touch her. that’s her thing” quote from cleopatra and frankenstein.

never learned how to drive! wanted connection perhaps since i feel like she kinda has to now, even if she'll do everything in her power to avoid it.

half her closet is still designer from her model days, and she will unabashedly walk into publix in a blumarine dress like so, like she isn't barely scraping by as the world's shittiest waitress when she's not import modeling for the prowlers.

has a pair of traditional innuit mittens her grandmother made her that she sleeps with underneath her pillow even now.

thats enough here bc i just know she's gonna change once i start writing her...

            wanted connections …

              𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 ...

glittery  eyeshadow  and  yesterday's  mascara,  the  sound  of  an  engine  revving  in  the  dead  of  night,  cardboard  boxes  of  memories  with  the  words  do  not  open  scrawled  across  them,  watermelon  flavored  bubblegum,  bedazzled  gas  station  lighters  marked  with  a  j,  the  drunken  feeling  of  connectedness  underneath  the  neon  lights  of  a  nightclub,  the  first  thunderstorm  of  the  year,  the  fear  that  gnaws  when  you  feel  somebody  losing  interest,  butterflies  in  your  stomach  when  you  take  things  too  far,  tying  cherry  stems  as  a  party  trick,  the  sound  of  police  sirens  feeling  as  familiar  as  a  lullaby,  loose  cigarettes and a switchblade  at  the  bottom  of  a  metallic  pink  shoulder  bag,  still  tucking  cash  underneath  your  mattress  in  habit,  the  headrush  when  you  realize  somebody  wants  to  kiss  you,  sticking  your  entire  head  out  the  window  of a speeding car,  the  tinkling  sounds  of  a  slot  machine,  nightmares  of  being  back  in  your  childhood  home  .

              𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 …

full name. yoo jiha . meaning of names. JI, of korean origin, meaning wisdom. AH, of korean origin, meaning beautiful or elegant. nicknames. cherry; racing alias. date of birth & age. may 11th & twenty5. zodiac. taurus sun, aries moon. gender & pronouns. cis woman & she/her. orientation. bisexual. place of birth. seoul, south korea. ethnicity. korean. current residence. miami, florida. occupation. street racer & blackjack dealer at coyote casino. traits. confident, independent, loyal, passionate, lively; stubborn, reckless, unforgiving, competitive, impatient. click here for more (tba)!

               𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 …

     # 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙚𝘬𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘢

( click  for  recommended  paired  reading )  TW:  very  brief  mentions  of  organized  crime,  guns,  blood,  and  death. it  comes  quickly,  the  moment  jiha's  parents  are  knocked  off  the  idealistic  pedestals  of  childhood  in  her  mind.  she  never  knew  her  mother—  there  was  no  goodbye  letter  to  cling  to,  no  stories  passed  down  from  her  father,  just  a  resounding  emptiness  where  the  woman  should  have  been.  and  her  father...a  revolving  door  of  strange  men  with  guns  hidden  under  their  waistbands,  with  loud  voices  and  even  louder  screams,  with  blood  dripping  across  kitchen  tiles  and  soaking  into  hardwood  floors.  my  daddy  the  doctor  was  replaced  by  something  too  big  for  a  little  girl  to  wrap  her  head  around,  but  still,  jiha  knew.  while  her  older  brother  was  pulled  under  the  tide  of  the  lifestyle  of  a  back  alley  doctor  (  doctor  graves,  they  called  her  father  ),  it  seemed  like  all  jiha  did  was  stay  as  far  away  as  she  could  from  that  world.  she  hated  being  home  and  the  thought  of  witnessing  somebody's  dying  breath,  hated  the  metal  glint  of  her  father's  operating  tools.  distractions  came  easily  when  there  was  no  one  setting  rules  or  watching  her  every  move  the  way  most  parents  would  have.  she  found  camaraderie  with  the  neighborhood  kids,  feeling  solace  at  the  sense  of  normalcy  their  company  provided,  though  periodically  that  solace  was  wiped  away  once  concerned  parents  scolded  their  children  for  befriending  the  reaper's  kid.  it  was  easier  in  her  teenage  years;  love  opened  up  a  world  of  possibilities  for  her,  and  she  all  but  lived  at  the  skatepark  or  her  boyfriend's  house  at  fourteen.  the  crowd  she  fell  into  was  questionable,  at  best,  but  what  else  could  be  expected?  only  criminals  could  stomach  the  daughter  of  one. at  fifteen  her  world  is  flipped  upside  down  when  her  father  gets  arrested.  jiha  was  terrifed  she  might  lose  her  brother,  too,  with  all  of  gunwoo's  involvement,  but  the  relief  she  felt  at  his  perceived  innocence  was  shattered  by  the  forced  lifestyle  change.  shipped  away  to  an  aunt  who  never  wanted  them  and  far  from  the  familiar  chaos  of  seoul,  jiha  and  her  brother  found  themselves  in  the  countryside  with  unfamiliar  and  stifling  rules  to  follow.  it  was  an  odd  time  for  jiha,  who  felt  some  relief  being  away  from  the  childhood  home  haunted  by  the  men  on  her  father’s  operating  table,  yet  suffocated by  the  overwhelming  loneliness  she  felt  being  away  from  everything  she’d  known  for  fifteen  years.  while  her  brother  escaped  the  monotony  for  street  races  in  the  city,  jiha's  own  journey  behind  the  wheel  began  with  cruising  down  empty  country  roads  toward  what  felt  like  the  edge  of  the  world  at  that  time.  driving  was  an  escape,  but  her  brother  had  made  it  into  a  way  to  earn  money.  every  bill  sent  in  her  direction  was  hastily  shoved  underneath  her  mattress.  she'd  find  a  way  out,  jiha  told  herself,  the  sentiment  getting  more  desperate  once  gunwoo  left  for  japan.  that was  when  she  started  frequenting  his  old  stomping  grounds,  the  circle  consisting  of  the  wrong  type  of  crowd  one  she  couldn't  shake  (  much  to  her  aunt's  distress  ).  she  was  still  just  a  kid  in  those  days,  seventeen  and  hungry  in  a  way  that  the  racing  scene  knew  how  to  nurture.  want  to  try  driving?  words  she'd  never  forget,  even  if  her  first  race  is  a  blur.  it  didn't  take  much  to  draw  her  in  after  that—  a  compliment  from  the  racer  she  was  seeing,  and  the  rush  of  adrenaline  she'd  spend  the  rest  of  her  life  chasing  was  enough.

     # 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙩𝙬𝙤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴

she's  nineteen  when  her  world  shifts  again,  familiar  but  different.  the  brother  that  had  been  growing  increasingly  distant  up  and  disappeared  from  her  life.  it's  then  that  jiha  can't  stand  even  the  briefest  talk  of  family,  the  word  ringing  synonymous  with  abandonment  in  her  head.  she's  still  racing,  but  there's  a  desperation  even  the  toughest  of  tracks  can't  stifle  stirring  within  her.  when  she  overhears  a  conversation  about  gunwoo  leaving  to  the  states,  jiha  doesn't  waste  much  time  before  she  follows  to  the  first  place  she  thinks  to  look:  los  angeles.  she's  more  stray  dog  than  girl  that  first  year,  curling  up  at  the  feet  of  the  first  person  to  show  her  just  the  right  amount  of  attention,  ready  to  bite  the  hands  whoever  calls  her  good  girl  tells  her  to.  she  has  no  concept  of  crews  or  rivalries,  naturally  falling  into  the  orbit  of  whoever  she  fills  her  time  with,  mistaking  loyalty  to  a  team  to  mean  loyalty  to  her.  jiha  actually  stops  racing  cars  for  a  bit,  sidestepping  into  a  new  world  of  motorcycles  and  sport  bikes.  higher  stakes,  they  tell  her,  as  if  that  wasn't  exactly  what  she  was  searching  for,  like  her  eyes  didn't  light  up  for  it.  she  was  a  star  on  the  path  of  explosion,  but  that  wasn't  what  it  felt  like.  so  what  if  she  had  been  left  behind?  she  could  convince  herself  it  didn't  matter  in  the  moments  she  could've  died  scraping  the  pavement  in  a  daring  turn,  or  when  she  was  going  so  fast  it  felt  like  her  heart  was  ready  to  leap  out  of  her  chest.  but  old  cycles  can't  seem  to  let  her  go—  in  fighting  with  the  crew  she'd  surrounded  herself  with  resulted  in  the  familiar  sting  of  abandonment.  people  she  thought  cared  to  stay  by  her  side  would  leave  again,  the  thrill  of  the  race  forever  the  more  appealing  option,  no  matter  what  the  cost.  whispers  of  a  racer  in  miami  going  by  reaper  find  her  at  a  vulnerable  time.  and  perhaps  it's  sentimentality,  clinging  hard  and  strong  since  girlhood,  refusing  to  burn  out  and  die,  that  has  her  packing  her  bags  again.

     # 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚𝘮𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘪

it's  2004  when  she  starts  over.  miami  marks  a  shift  in  her  life,  one  that  has  her  revisiting  what  made  her  fall  in  love  with  racing  in  the  first  place—  cars.  when  the  nariza  bois  find  her,  she's  not  the  lost  puppy  she  was  in  los  angeles.  the  hunger  to  prove  herself,  her  reckless  abandon,  the  reflexes  she'd  picked  up  from  racing  motorbikes,  all  of  it  adds  to  her  appeal.  the  bonus?  her  brother's  racing  for  the  rodani  prowlers,  and  there's  nothing  jiha  wouldn't  do  to  see  him  lose.  you're  alone  in  this  world,  remember  that.  the  mantra  she  whispers  to  herself  before  bed,  the  one  she  tries  so  desperately  to  remember  and  expect,  lest  old  wounds  eat  away  at  her  completely.  but  three  years  is  a  long  time;  like  ivy,  the  hope  crawls  its  way  over  her,  the  feeling  like  maybe  she  could  belong  here  growing  louder  and  louder  each  day.  it's  only  natural,  searching  for  the  family  she  never  had  in  the  crew  she  surrounds  herself  with,  though  jiha  would  never  admit  it.  you  can't  teach  an  old  dog  new  tricks.

            𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 & 𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 …

jiha's  been  on  a  bit  of  a  #Personality  journey.  when  she  was  younger  and  had  first  gotten  into  racing,  and  especially  after  her  brother's  abandonment,  it  was  like  there  was  a  void  inside  of  her  she  couldn't  fill  with  anything  (  and  boy  did  she  try  ).  it's  actually  how  she  earned  herself  the  alias  CHERRY;  a  comment  on  how  she  was  pretty  on  the  outside,  but  there  was  something  darker  lurking  underneath.  she  was  a  people  pleaser  to  an  insane  degree,  meaning  she'd  do  absolutely  anything  someone  who  was  giving  her  just  enough  attention  asked.  definitely  not  the  healthiest  person  to  date,  or  befriend,  even  despite  jiha  wanting  to  do  anything  to  make  other  people  happy  and  want  to  stick  around.  definitely  got  herself  into  some  messes  back  in  los  angeles  (  wanted  connections  perhaps?  👀  )  the  way  she  was  acting  when  she  lived  there.

she's  definitely  mellowed  out  in  the  last  few  years!  still  has  very  real  abandonment  issues  that  like  to  manifest  in  all  her  relationships  (  platonic  or  not  ),  but  at  least  she's  aware  of  them  now  😭  the  anger  towards  her  brother  she  used  to  misplace  is  now  very  much  only  directed  at  him,  which  kind  of  gave  her  a  freedom  to  figure  herself  out  in  a  way?  if  that  makes  sense.  i  think  she  feels  like  she  wasted  so  much  of  her  time  fixated  on  it  that  nowadays  she  just  wants  to  enjoy  herself  and  find  happiness  in  whatever  way  pleases  her.

she's  a  daredevil!  has  no  real  sense  of  self-preservation,  although  she's  been  lucky  so  far  and  hasn't  really  needed  to  develop  it.  is  that  one  friend  you're  happy  to  join  in  on  their  chaos  until  you  get  into  a  situation  and  realize  woah  maybe  she's  kind  of  crazy  actually...doesn't  often  put  others  in  danger,  though,  or  at  least  not  on  purpose. is in fact crazy.

is  also  that  one  friend  that  does  NOT  know  how  to  be  alone.  when  she's  seeing  someone,  she  has  options  b,  c,  d,  e,  f,  all  lined  up  and  ready  to  go.  a  serial  dater,  a  shameless  flirt,  and  a  commitment-phobe  to  the  highest  degree  which  is  insanely  hypocritical  of  her  considering  she's  slashed  tires  for  being  ghosted  before. perpetually stuck in a can't be left if i leave them first mentality. did i mention she has abandonment issues?

the  only  thing  she  likes  more  than  a  race  is  a  party.  a  frequent  clubgoer,  but  that's  more  because  she  looooves  to  dance  than  because  she  wants  to  be  sloshed  24/7.  does  in  fact  enjoy  getting  sloshed,  though,  when  the  occasion's  right  (  and  it  often  is!  it's  miami  in  2007,  after  all...  ) 

she's  a  blackjack  dealer  at  the  coyote  casino  😎  i  imagine  they  tried  to  recruit  her  to  be  a  bottle  girl  at  first,  because  she  was  always  hanging  around  and  looking  cute,  but  she  got  upgraded  pretty  quick  due  to  how  much  customers  liked  her  energy.  definitely  loves  a  gamble  herself  (  hello  roulette  )  but  likes  betting  on  races  even  more.

what  she  hates?  losing.  at  absolutely  anything,  no  matter  how  trivial.  she's  not  the  type  to  blow  up  and  cause  a  scene,  but  every  failure  does  in  fact  feel  like  the  absolute  end  of  the  world  since  she  still  harbors  that  desperation  to  prove  herself.  is  prone  to  falling  into  old  habits  when  she's  feeling  the  sting  of  a  loss,  particularly  the  version  of  herself  lost  and  angry  with  the  world,  but  she's  usually  quick  to  snap  out  of  it.  if  you  acknowledge  this  she  will  act  like  you're  crazy  and  imagined  it  #gaslight  because  she's  embarrassed😔

is  amazing  in  an  emergency.  there's  not  much  that  could  make  her  panic,  or  even  really  worry.  doesn't  scare  easily,  considering  the  things  she  grew  up  seeing  and  hearing.

extremely  reticent  to  talk  about  her  past,  especially  when  it  comes  to  family.  the  topic  of  her  brother  gunwoo  is  the  biggest  sore  spot  of  all,  and  a  grudge  she  very  obviously  carries,  even  if  she's  not  so  ready  to  confess  the  details  of  it.  still,  one  of  the  items  of  clothes  you'll  see  her  sporting,  even  more  than  the  nariza  bois'  jacket,  is  a  worn  leather  one  her  brother  left  behind.

absolutely  hates  the  beach  yet  owns  more  bikinis  than  fit  in  her  wardrobe.  these  are  also  part  of  her  usual  daily  attire  (  mainly  a  bikini  top  in  lieu  of  a  real  one  ),  much  to  the  dismay  of  many  a  miami  restaurant.  she's  got  a  phobia  of  deep  water,  especially  the  ocean,  and  only  now  warmed  up  to  the  idea  of  swimming  pools  in  her  twenties,  although  she  never  learned  how  to  swim.

a  chronic  smoker  since  she  was  probably  twelve  and  bumming  cigarette  butts  off  the  ground  with  the  rest  of  the  neighborhood  hooligans.  is  constantly  saying  she'll  quit,  but  no  one  ever  really  believes  her.

drives  a  pink  ferrari  f40!  some  of  the  cutesy  fun  mods  are  the  heart-shaped  steering  wheel  and  heart-shaped  tire  details.  as  for  everything  else,  well...she  spends  a  lot  of  time  at  nariza  auto,  and  gives  the  mechanics  free  range  to  experiment  and  deck  the  shit  out  of  her  car.  one  of  her  favorite  things  about  joining  the  nariza  bois  has  been  how  much  passion  they  have  for  the  actual  cars  and  all  the  things  you  can  do  to  them.  jiha  will  listen  to  any  one  of  the  nariza  bois  geek  out  about  mods  any  day and has a deep admiration for the mechanics.

her  racing  style  is  that  she  doesn't  really  have  one.  truly,  every  race  couldn't  be  more  different  from  the  last  for  jiha,  which  both  impresses  and  frustrates  the  shit  out  of  her  teammates.  on  one  hand  she's  unpredictable;  and  it  makes  whoever  she's  racing  against  struggle  to  prepare  themselves  for  what  she  may  or  may  not  do.  on  the  other  hand,  not  everything  she  does  works  100%  of  the  time.  sometimes  she'll  lose  catastrophically—but  the  freedom  is  what  makes  the  wins  worth  it. 

            𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 …