Tawny skin tone, spine shows skinny, 5'6 without heels and 6'0 in heels. Her hair is dark brown, in a pixie cut, and curly if she doesn't flatten it. Her eyes are dark brown. Her ears are pierced. She's into flashy over the top fashion when she parties, colorful girly fashion for her every day wear, and Korean over sized fashion when she doesn't feel like dressing up. All her clothes has a luxury brand logo on them somewhere and she never wears last season's outfits. Her accessories are diamonds, diamonds, and more diamonds. If she's not more blinding than the sun, then she's not doing it right. Her nails and toes are a different color every week. She gets her nails done as sharp as she can, unless she has a girlfriend. She has freckles across her cheeks and nose.

Belen is the daughter of plastic surgeon Dr. Violeta Cartwright and drug lord Emiliano Huerta. Violeta was vacationing in Mexico for two weeks the summer of her last year in med school when she met Emiliano. They had an affair, Violeta well aware that Emiliano had a wife and ten year old son, Nataniel. Violeta went back pregnant and with Emiliano's phone number to his business cell phone, so his wife wouldn't find out. Once she told him about her pregnancy he wired money into an offshore account she had access to, because family was the most important thing to him and he wasn't going to be a deadbeat to his little girl, despite rarely getting to see her. Violeta used the money for medical bills, expenses, and to move out of her studio apartment and into a mansion in San Diego, CA. His paid bodyguards to watch over his family, hired nannies to take care of Belen while Violeta finished her residency and started her career. They were the ones that taught her spanish and spoiled her, but Violeta wasn't having it. She tried to instill the value of money and hard work into her daughter, but Belen was too headstrong for her own good and didn't know how to listen. Instead, she charmed her way into getting what she wanted with a sweet smile and empty promises.

Belen had two rooms for her playroom full of every toy she ever wanted. When she became a teenager the rooms became her closet. One for the latest clothing and the second for last season's shit she hasn't given away yet. For her sixteenth birthday she got a Lamborghini, crashed it at a party a month later and got a new one. Most of her friends are the fakest bitches you ever did see. Many were patrons to her mother's clinic. They were all insecure, ugly scrubs that needed to fix their looks, because they couldn't compare to her. Her real friends were her bodyguards Gregorio and Cruz. They followed her everywhere and tried their best to advice her on bad decisions. Sometimes she listened, sometimes she didn't. The boys and girls she "dated" were the leather jacket, motorcycle, sob story, fix me types that she lavished with gifts, fucked, and "loved", until she got annoyed with them and sent them back to the hard-knock gutter they crawled out of. She graduated from a catholic school with mostly elite children that were just as bad as her, but not better because no one's better than Belen. She never bothered with college cause that's for people that don't know how to marry rich and need jobs to sustain them.

Boys and girls filled the empty whole in her heart where her father should've been. She had all the shit and comfort of wealth, but not the love she needed. Her mother, nannies, bodyguards, and occasionally her brother weren't enough. To her it wasn't fair that Nataniel got to have both parents while she got secret skype calls whenever her step-mother was on vacation. Bullshit. Nataniel and her got along-ish. He lived with them for the five years he was in college abroad. He long accepted his father was a cheating asshole and didn't take it out on his extended family. Belen, on the other hand, was a brat to him at every turn, because she recent the relationship he has with their father. The older she got the more she eased up and realized he had as much control over their father's actions as she did. She's worried that as soon as their father kicks the bucket, he's in his fifties and three years in remission from prostate cancer. It could come back any moment and if he dies that's it for her, unless her brother keeps her on the books. So she's on the hunt for some rich fuck that's tolerable and will her spend money like it comes from a fountain.

Bumps Boss Bitch and Diamonds in the car.

First impressions speak wonders. For Dean, he would get the occasional unsolicited stare when he'd be out and about. It's not his salt and pepper beard groomed to near perfection or his ruggedly handsome looks, but rather, the large number of tattoos on display from his neck down to his fingers. To top it off, his facial expression usually matches his outward appearance. He has the male equivalent of "resting bitch face", and his neutral expression makes him unapproachable at times. Dean has been advised by his friends he needs to smile more, but the man simply scoffs and gives them the middle finger. Dean's attitude coupled with his naturally strong build sometimes puts him in the hot seat.

Fashion-wise, the man is unpredictable. He looks good in a tuxedo, sweatpants, or shorts. Given the California weather, he'll wear whatever is appropriate at the time, which more often than not it's a button-down shirt and jeans. If he had to pick, he'd say his favorite style is business casual. As a bar-owner, Dean takes full advantage of the freedom he's allowed with his wardrobe. On occasion, he dons some of the jewelry he owns such as a watch or ring, but he refuses to over-accessorize.

On the other hand, there's Jane. She is a rather short girl for her age, but despite being small, she packs a big personality. Growing up, she always loved playing dress-up with her dolls and having tea parties, thus her hair always had to be made up and her nails almost always had a layer or two of glitter. But sometime in middle school, she dropped the act. She cut her hair short to make it easier to manage and given she has bright blue eyes, she loved the contrast created by black eyeliner and mascara. Some have labeled her as a goth, but she doesn't have any one specific style. She'll dress up if she needs to or dresses down to lounge or run errands.

It's no secret Dean had a troubled past. From a young age, he got involved with the wrong crowd and it went downhill from there. He often would drink and smoke weed, and eventually got his feet wet with the harder stuff. But his experimentation didn't last as he didn't enjoy the aftermath of the effects. Throughout his adolescence, Dean was in and out of juvie a number of times. His mother, who was raising him alone at the time, threatened to send him to some boot camp for troubled youth, but Dean didn't pay her any mind. He loved her, but he knew she wouldn't do anything like that to him. But his mindset changed when one day, the school's dean had a talk with him. He'd either clean up his act, or face expulsion. Sure, he'd been suspended numerous times, but he was never threatened to be kicked out of school. Just because he was a bad boy didn't mean he was stupid. He still wanted a high school education, and since he was so close to achieving that goal, he slowly began to clean up his act. Not only did his mother take notice, but so did the school staff. They supported him every step along the way until his graduation. Dean was indecisive as to his future, but after a few years of going in and out menial jobs, he started working at a local pub as a barback, and he loved it. Dean slowly moved up, being promoted to bartender after some time and eventually, bar manager. He loved his job, and he had an amazing life going for himself when he met Sydney.

The young woman, Sydney, showed up at the bar one evening while leaving her daughter, Jane, with a babysitter. Jane was two years old and was as playful as a little girl could be despite the fact that her father was shot and killed during a sting with drug dealers. She was too young to understand why her father was gone, and the thought never crossed her mind until she was told the truth one day. Sydney and Dean eloped, the family eventually moving down to California when Jane was 7 years old. Sydney's architecture business was thriving, and Dean had just opened his own bar. Jane was without a doubt a pretty lucky child. Or she was, until they had to break the news to her that Dean was not her relative by blood. Jane took it pretty hard, lashing out at her parents before running away for the night. She had the typical teenage response to such big news, but over time, she slowly calmed down and realized she didn't have to treat Dean any differently than she had been treating him up to that point.

When the mist rolled around, Sydney was nowhere to be found. Dean and Jane were quickly able to meet up at the bar, but their attempts at getting through to her were futile. The two rushed home, avoiding the chaos going on around them, but Sydney wasn't there either. They debated staying home and waiting, but their argument was cut short when they heard a loud crash somewhere near the back of the house. They ran to the car and Dean peeled out of the driveway as Jane stared in awe at the monsters in the distance.

Up to that point they've avoided being killed, hoping that Sydney too was alive.

Lena doesn’t look like it at first glance, but she’s actually pretty fit. She wears a dark gray coat I’ve her body, it hugs her chest a little tightly, but the sleeve flair out a bit and are therefore rather loose. Her skin is a fair olive shade, and has what looks to be faint burn marks from days long gone. These burns are more prevalent around her hands. Lena’s hair is almost always in a really thick braid, almost as thick as her arms. Any hair that she misses simply gets chopped off. Her massive braid thins out towards its end, away from her head. This hair is the color of tree bark, and though it’s tied up, it looks a bit messy.

Lena has this resting face that looks as if she’s lived for hundreds of years, nothing ever seems to phase her or shake that stone expression she wears. She also has some pretty noticeable dark circles around her eyes as a result of developing insomnia thanks to the fucks in the most. Lena typically wears clothes that don’t move from her body, but flow off of her limbs, an example of this is her coat, and her faded jeans that she’s had on for who knows how long. She also has a pair of weathered, knee high boots that she found in an abandoned shop somewhere. Lena’s eyes, if you can see them, are a dark brown color with some lighter brown flecks in them. Hanging from her shoulders is a small and light blue backpack.

A long time ago, there was a kid with a name Lena never even thinks about anymore. He grew up in a quiet town with a lot of people in it, and held onto a secret he didn’t want anyone knowing about. This kid didn’t have the best parents growing up, they always talked about how he was their property and how they had the right to do anything in the world.

Though this kid never harbored any sort of serious hate for anyone, he still tried to keep as much distance between himself and those parents of his as possible. If he wasn’t at school, he was in his room alone. But he started coming out of there more and more when he and his father built a makeshift forge in their backyard. His dad made things like hatchets and shovels, or nails. The kid made knives and swords, and was pretty damn good at it too.

By the time people were spreading rumors about this kid, and spreading rumors about a red cloud, he had already made an entire arsenal of sharp weapons out of enjoyment alone. His father was beginning to pick up of the things people were saying about him, so he confronted his son. They got into a serious feud, and a fist or two had been thrown.

That was the day the most came.

Hours after that fight, the kid was outside working on a knife when the monsters hit the other side of town, where his dad was blowing off steam. In a fit of adrenaline and fear, the kid grabbed a backpack, loaded it with some things, and grabbed as many of his knives as he could. If anyone made it out of that town, they’d never see him again.

After that godawful day, the kid stuck to himself even after seeing plenty of survivors, but more importantly, he stopped being that kid, the world he hid from was behind him, now he was Lena Carter. She stopped caring about hiding, unless it was to hide from the mist. The end of the world took that old face away, now her secret was out, and she was herself.

Standing close to six feet and weighed around 220 lbs, you would not associating Cheung of half a month ago to the current Cheung. First off, he was a much chubbier person. He would slouch a lot, frowned a lot, sighed a lot. He would never groom his mustache, insisting on letting it untouched for as long as he shall live. Perhaps the only nice thing back then was the shortness of his hair. It makes him a bit tougher.

But, you can say that the mist changed a lot of things for a person. Cheung isn't that chubby anymore. It's kinda hard to remain chubby when you have nothing to eat for 3 days straight anyway. His mustache is now gone. His hair is uncomfortably long. And while we are on the note of noteworthy features, add the missing of pinky and ring finger of the right hand to the list. On the plus side, he has six abs now. Still, his fashion is the same as before. His wardrobe consisted of nothing more than cold colors jeans, black jackets, and grey to mossy green long-sleeves shirt. There are some shorts here and there, but the occasions where he can be seen with them are few. Even California's heat and the mist can't strip him from his favorite black jacket, mossy long sleeve shirt, and brown khaki combo. But, these days, he had

Perhaps, when standing from an outsider viewpoint, Cheung is your average Chinese ascendant child. Great at Math, ace his AP test, having his dream job as an engineer. Perhaps having one or two accomplishments during his early times, competing in a few STEM competitions,... Nothing really stands out in a sea of already standout people.

And that makes Cheung disappointed.

Cheung felt that his life was somewhat of a mistake when he was born. He was born into a family of six, and a contestant for the next "head-figure" of the family. As such, he was pampered with loves and unnecessary adorations from the adults. His grandfather played favorite games with Cheung's other cousin. His grandma loves him more than she will ever love his sisters. His father speaks with this kind of knowledge as if Cheung would overcome some great tasks in his life. And his mother always speaks of making his own decision. But this only devastated the child more when he compared himself to the more accomplished peers.

Cheung feels lost. He didn't know what to do. What to make out of it. He feels that this unfair treating should stop, but he doesn't know whether he should speak out or do something about it. And this loss of direction and self-control sparks anger inside him. He thinks that he should be scolded for his failure, that he should learn something. But no one sees that. No one helped.

He associated his loss to his family. If they have not pampered him so much, showered him with praises for everything he achieved and give him more praises even when he failed, perhaps he would not be so lost.

So, he just learned his best and yeeted himself out of New York. He went as far as he can. He took extra jobs to make sure he will never be free enough to come back. And when the mist came, when everyone tried to make a run for their home, Cheung hunkered down in his room, queued for another round and just suffered the first night in solitude.