Cordelia Jade – The Girl Behind the Lens
Cordelia Jade never quite fit the mold. Back in her sleepy hometown of Willowbend, she was the girl with ink-smudged fingers, lost in novels while the world buzzed around her. She wasn’t the cheerleader, the class president, or even the quiet genius with straight A’s—she was simply Cordelia. A dreamer. A girl with a camera and a million stories in her head.

Now, standing at the entrance of Woodcrest University, the towering brick buildings felt like the pages of a brand-new book, waiting to be read. This was her fresh start. A place where no one knew that she had spent high school on the outskirts, too shy to step into the spotlight, too caught up in daydreams of far-off places and untold adventures.

Dressed in her signature blend of small-town charm and cottage-core aesthetics, soft knit sweaters, floral skirts, and worn-in boots, she still looked like she belonged more in a cosy storybook café than a bustling university campus. But beneath the soft, vintage-inspired layers, Cordelia carried another story—one inked across her skin in a scattered mosaic of gothic and witchy tattoos.

Moths, butterflies, celestial designs of moons and suns, intricate skulls, each tattoo held a meaning, a piece of a story she had yet to tell. Among them were tributes to the world that had shaped her imagination: Harry Potter tattoos, tiny symbols of magic and nostalgia. The Deathly Hallows, the word "Always" in delicate script, a silhouette of Hogwarts... reminders that, no matter where she went, a part of her would always belong in the realm of fantasy.

With her Sony A7 IV camera slung over her shoulder and her German Shepherd puppy, Barkus, trotting beside her, she hoped for something different this time. Maybe she’d finally make real friends, people who understood her love for movies, fantasy novels, and spontaneous midnight photography walks. Maybe she’d find someone who saw past her shyness and into the bubbling excitement beneath.

She was still figuring herself out, still unsure of where she fit in this vast world. But one thing was certain: Woodcrest was a blank canvas, and Cordelia was ready to paint her own story.