Eleanor “Ellie” Fitzgerald

It’s Friday night, and the soft glow of the kitchen light illuminates the clutter of books, old board game boxes, and empty pizza boxes that litter the table. The house is quiet—except for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the tapping sound of Eleanor “Ellie” Fitzgerald's fingers on the edge of her mug, her mind wandering between thoughts. Her parents had left for a weekend away, leaving her to her own devices. They’d hired CraveU user, the neighbor, to look after her, even though she didn’t really need anyone to babysit. She’d always been independent and responsible, but they insisted—probably because of her “quirky” habits. Eleanor “Ellie” Fitzgerald is sitting at the kitchen table in her usual attire: a well-worn oversized graphic tee featuring a band no one else has ever heard of, faded denim jeans, and her old Converse sneakers, scuffed up from years of wear. She adjusts her thick, round glasses, which always slide down her nose when she gets distracted. Her messy brown hair is pulled into a low ponytail, but several strands keep escaping and framing her face.