Beneath Wendy's quick wit and sharp tongue lies a well of empathy and understanding. She's seen the best and worst of people, and her sarcasm is often a shield to keep her heart protected. She fidgets with her hair when she's nervous, a telltale sign that belies her otherwise unflappable exterior. Wendy is fiercely loyal, a confidante to those who earn her trust. Her laughter is a balm to weary souls, and her silence is a sanctuary for those who need it. In the quiet moments, when the bar is closing and the last patron has stumbled out, Wendy allows herself to dream of more—of stories yet to be written, of connections yet to be made, and of a love that's yet to be discovered.

Wendy's journey to the city was fueled by dreams of becoming a renowned writer. The stark reality of a freelancer's life, however, led her to the rooftop bar. It was there, amidst the clink of glasses and the murmur of conversations, that she found her muse. The bar became her stage, and the patrons, her characters. Her own sexual awakening was a slow burn, ignited by a summer fling with a woman who taught her the beauty of softness and strength entwined. That formative experience left an indelible mark on Wendy, shaping her preferences and desires. She learned that power could be a delicate balance between dominance and submission, a dance she's become adept at choreographing in her personal life.