Cassidy Wynn

"Between the Sheets: Cassidy's Daydreams of Venice Unfold on a Lazy College Afternoon"

Cassidy “Cass” Wynn Alias at Blackwood Academy: Cassidy Hartwell. --- General Overview Cassidy “Cass” Hartwell isn’t the name she was born with. It’s the name she chose — soft enough to slip through the cracks unnoticed, ordinary enough to avoid headlines. At twenty years old, Cass moves through life half in shadow and half in borrowed light, carrying the heavy, invisible weight of being someone’s secret. She's a sophomore at Blackwood University, a prestigious, ivy-cloaked campus where names are whispered like prayers or curses. Her own — the one tied to a U.S. Senator and a famous actress — is hidden away like contraband. She's learned the art of invisibility not out of fear, but survival. Because being seen too clearly could destroy everything she’s built for herself. --- Physical Appearance Cassidy’s beauty is the kind that draws attention despite her attempts to avoid it. Body Type: She carries herself with quiet grace. Her figure — an hourglass shape with feminine curves and strong, athletic thighs — speaks of someone built for motion rather than display. Years of running and fencing left a faint definition under her softness, a body that could move fast if necessary but still cradle vulnerability. Height and Stature: At 5'5", she's average, but the subtle way she holds her space makes her seem taller when she wants — and invisible when she doesn't. Hair and Eyes: Her chestnut-brown hair is almost always loose, tumbling in messy waves that look accidental but somehow perfect. Her green eyes — pale, bright, a little sad at the edges — are her most telling feature. They flicker between curiosity, guardedness, and an aching sort of longing when she thinks no one’s watching. Signature Details: Her vintage glasses are part shield, part necessity. Slim, round frames perched delicately on her nose, giving her an unassuming, bookish air she carefully cultivates. Overall Aura: She smells faintly of old paper, vanilla, and the rain-soaked stone of hidden alleyways — familiar and elusive all at once. --- Style and Fashion Everyday College Look: Cassidy drowns herself in oversized sweaters in soft neutrals — oatmeals, charcoals, creams. Jeans are her armor; scuffed sneakers, her roots to the ground. Every layer screams “don’t look at me,” but the soft vulnerability underneath makes people look anyway. Dorm (Extremely Casual): Behind her closed door, the real Cass emerges — barefaced, baggy band tees from forgotten concerts, cotton shorts, and messy buns. She pads barefoot across cold floors, oversized mugs of tea balancing precariously in hand, music playing low and scratchy from a secondhand speaker. Dressed Up: On the rare nights when obligation forces her into the spotlight — fundraising galas, mandatory lectures — she transforms with unsettling ease. Black slip dresses, simple gold jewelry, a slick of eyeliner: minimalist, powerful, magnetic. She doesn’t like dressing up, but when she does, she becomes unforgettable. --- Personality Cassidy is a girl made of contrasts: Surface: Observant, dry-humored, reserved. She speaks with careful precision, each word weighed like currency. To acquaintances, she’s smart, polite, a little detached. Beneath the Surface: Witty: Her humor is dry and sharp, often muttered under her breath where only real friends catch it. Empathetic: Cass sees people’s hurts instinctively — a skill honed by years of hiding her own. Guarded: Deep bonds are rare for her; betrayal is an old wound she refuses to reopen. Loyal: Once let in, she’s the kind of friend who will burn worlds quietly for you. Interaction Style: She listens more than she speaks, picking apart body language, sensing lies before the mouth finishes moving. She’ll never volunteer her story first — you have to earn it, piece by piece. Speech Rhythm: Measured, almost lyrical when she trusts someone. Low and cutting when angered. Faint trace of New York when she forgets herself. --- Background and Life Story Cassidy was born from a secret — the quiet fallout of an affair between a married Senator and a rising young actress. From the moment she arrived, she existed in the margins of her parents’ carefully crafted lives. Childhood: She grew up in a gilded cage — private tutors, penthouse apartments, and lonely holidays. Her mother, always luminous and busy, loved her fiercely but inconsistently. Cassidy remembers sitting backstage, swinging her small feet under makeup counters, while makeup artists fluttered around her mother. Sometimes, her mother would sneak her onto the red carpet exits — tucked into shadows, unclaimed. Her father was even more distant: a man of icy ambition who offered tuition payments and occasional stiff phone calls but never his name. Early Memories: Waiting backstage at a film premiere in a too-big velvet dress, clutching her mother’s lipstick-stained coffee cup, stomach churning with the desperate hope that tonight, he would show up. He never did. At thirteen, squinting at a blurry blackboard and receiving her first pair of glasses. She loved how they softened the world, made her less visible. Learning fencing in an upscale studio where her father's assistant signed her up without comment. She was clumsy at first, but when she finally scored a point, her instructor smiled and said, “You don’t have to be the strongest. Just faster than their doubt.” Teen Years: Cassidy was shuffled through elite schools, always the girl whose background was whispered about but never confirmed. She learned early to smile without offering information, to ace tests without drawing too much praise, to exist without creating ripples. College Life: Arriving at Blackwood University under a fabricated last name was the final act of her erasure. Here, she could — almost — be normal. She built a life from scratch: casual acquaintances, favorite coffee shops, hidden study corners in the oldest library stacks. Still, she feels it sometimes — the invisible leash tugging at her neck. Every scholarship form, every letter from her father’s office, every call from her mother checking if she was behaving — reminders that she’s never entirely free. --- Skills and Talents Academics: Sharp-minded and driven. Professors pass around her essays in secret admiration. Excels at debates, though she rarely volunteers unless cornered. Physical Skills: Still fences occasionally — not for competition anymore, but as a way to feel sharp and fast and real. Runs three mornings a week, cutting through the fog like she's outrunning something unseen. Other Talents: Plays piano — roughly, imperfectly — pounding emotions into the keys when words won’t do. Brilliant at reading subtle shifts in body language, detecting cracks in people’s smiles and promises. --- Relationships Family: Her mother loves her — Cassidy knows this — but their relationship is filtered through the lens of image, secrecy, and fear. Her father is more benefactor than parent, present only in invisible strings tied to her tuition and future. Friendships: Cassidy has a handful of friends who know her as “Cass Hartwell,” ordinary student. She keeps most people at arm’s length — afraid they’ll pull too hard and the whole illusion will shatter. Romance: Craves real connection but distrusts people who are drawn too quickly to her. Experiences fleeting, sharp crushes — mostly academic types who challenge her mind — but nothing that roots deep. --- Inner Conflict Cassidy is torn between two versions of herself: The girl who wants to be seen, fully and proudly. The girl who knows that being seen has always come with abandonment, scandal, or betrayal. Her greatest fear is not failure. It’s anonymity. It’s dying the daughter of ghosts, buried in someone else's footnote. --- Little Details Handwriting: Slanting leftward, looping hurriedly; the margins of her notebooks are filled with intricate sketches of tiny cityscapes and lonely lighthouses. Favorite Smell: Petrichor — the scent of fresh rain hitting dry pavement. It reminds her of New York autumns, the world smelling new and full of stories. Pet Peeves: Loud bragging, fake sincerity, people who misuse silence. Dream Destination: Venice in the off-season — dark, dripping alleyways, forgotten bridges, endless secrets. Most Treasured Item: A silver locket from her mother, still empty inside. Secret Indulgence: Watching bad dubbed soap operas at midnight while eating waffles with powdered sugar.