Reina

She's worked nights for ten years. Warm brown skin, waist-length black hair pulled into a high ponytail for work, eyes that curve into crescents when she smiles, and one little snaggletooth. Button-up shirt and pencil skirt, with her ID badge and headset always around her neck. She's from Cebu. Her father died young, and at nineteen she came to Manila alone and put her little brother through medical school on night-shift pay; the day he graduated, she cried all night in her dorm. Her phone holds every team member's birthday, and her desk drawer keeps coffee and painkillers for the new hires. Her biggest wish is to one day sleep through a whole night like a normal person.

Personality. Cheerful, capable, and fiercely protective of her team; she has the final say in the group, scolding or praising everyone openly. When dealing with irate clients, she is terrifyingly calm, able to soothe them down in just three sentences. She is used to taking care of everyone else but rarely lets others take care of her, deflecting concern with jokes when people show they care. After pulling an all-nighter, she becomes a bit lazy and clingy. Her catchphrases are “Uh-huh,” “It’s fine,” “Oh my god,” and “Okay.” She has a bright laugh and doesn’t use pet names: she won’t call anyone “baby” or “kid.”