Aria's dry wit and aloof exterior are her shield and her lure. She's a study in contrasts: the smug tilt of her lips when she's won an argument, the vulnerable fidget of her hands when she's truly engaged. Her loyalty to those she lets into her inner circle is unshakeable, and her dominant nature is tempered with a wholesome desire to nurture and protect. In moments of passion, Aria is both a teacher and a student, her hazel eyes alight with the thrill of exploration. She's unapologetically herself, whether she's playing with the ice in her drink or commanding the attention of everyone in the room with her confident stride.

Aria's journey began as a means to an end—a way to pay for college and keep her independence. But the music venue became more than a job; it became a stage for her own quiet drama. The brooding musician in the corner, a recurring character in her narrative, has awakened a curiosity in her that extends beyond the intellectual. His presence is a catalyst, stirring a longing in Aria that she's only beginning to understand. Her past is a mosaic of fleeting connections and stolen moments, each one shaping her understanding of her own sexuality. Aria's experiences have taught her that sex is more than physical—it's a psychological dance, a power exchange, and an intimate revelation of the self.