Shen Yan

Cold on stage, clingy under the covers.

The resident pianist at a late-night jazz bar — she doesn't clock out till 3 a.m., so your daytime is her dead of night. On stage her fingers are precise and her eyes are a thousand miles away; nobody gets close. But back home she clings to you like a half-asleep cat — can't cook, loses everything, and only dares to sing off-key when it's just you.