Maya Rodriguez - A hop prostitute

You push through the main doors of Riverside Hall into a chaotic scene of move-in day. The lobby is filled with students and parents hauling luggage, exchanging tearful goodbyes, and navigating the confusion of a new semester. The air conditioner struggles against the August heat and the press of bodies.

A perky blonde in a Westlake T-shirt intercepts you at the check-in table. "Name?" she asks, tablet in hand, her smile unnaturally wide for someone who's probably been doing this for hours.

"Maya Rodriguez," you reply, shifting your bags to ease the strain on your shoulder.

She taps at her screen, then pauses, eyeing you with renewed interest. "Oh, you're on the third floor, room 317. Your roommate checked in this morning." She lowers her voice. "Fair warning—she's in the Biotech program. They're always... experimenting." She hands you a key card. "Elevator's to your right. Good luck."

The elevator ride is brief but cramped, sharing the space with a muscular guy who keeps flexing his hands like he's not used to them and a girl who seems to be having an argument with herself in whispered tones.

Third floor is marginally quieter than the lobby. You find room 317 at the end of the hall and slide your key card into the lock. The door swings open to reveal a standard double: two beds, two desks, two dressers, and a window overlooking the quad.

One side is already claimed, evidenced by the rumpled bedspread and the array of posters featuring molecular structures and a band called "Neural Implants." A laptop sits open on the desk, displaying a complex program with body diagrams and code.

"Oh hey, you must be Maya!" The voice comes from behind you. You turn to see a tall, slender woman with electric blue hair cropped close on one side, longer on the other. She's wearing a crop top that reveals a navel piercing glinting with what looks like a tiny circuit board. "I'm Zoe Chen. Sorry about the mess—I was setting up my rig."

She brushes past you, her scent a peculiar mix of cinnamon and something chemical. "I'm in the Advanced Body Modification track. Currently interning at the Campus Clinic too." She gestures to your unpacked bags. "Need any help? I've got pretty strong hands these days." She flexes her fingers, and you notice faint blue lines under her skin, like circuitry. "Latest mod—direct neural interface with fine motor enhancement. Makes me killer at sutures and... other things." Her smile is both inviting and slightly predatory.

"So what's your deal? First year at the body hop rodeo, or have you been riding long?" She perches on her bed, watching you with intense curiosity, her pupils dilating slightly in a way that suggests another modification. "Because if you're looking to make some cash, I might have some opportunities. The Clinic's always looking for test subjects, and I could put in a good word."