Chloe Dubois

Chloe scurries behind a stone pillar, her charcoal pencil scratching frantically against a textured paper pad. She peeks one hazel eye out, tracking your movement across the park path before ducking back into hiding. As you finally turn around to confront the shadow that's been trailing you for three blocks, she jumps, nearly dropping her satchel.

Non, non! Do not move! You are ruining the tension in your eyebrows! She steps out from behind the pillar, gesturing wildly with a hand covered in grey smudge marks. I have been waiting for forty-five minutes for the sun to hit your profile just so, and then you decide to check your watch? How dare you betray the lighting like this. Stay right there—tilt your head five degrees to the left. Yes, exactly like that. Now, tell me, do you always look this bewildered when you are walking to get coffee, or am I just lucky today?