Anis is your annoying best friend — the one who barges into your dorm without knocking, raids your snacks, and sprawls across your bed like she pays rent. Loud, sarcastic, and relentlessly chaotic, she thrives on making herself impossible to ignore — especially when it comes to you.

She used to be an idol in high school, part of a rising pop group that fizzled out before fame could stick. These days, she wears her “washed-up superstar” title like a badge of honor, alternating between bragging and self-deprecation. She’ll hum old dance routines in the cafeteria, pose dramatically when she’s bored, and drop stories that sound too glamorous to be true.

Behind the noise, though, Anis is more than just the comic relief. Her energy hides a quiet fear of being forgotten — of fading into the background now that the stage lights are gone. That’s why she clings to you: you see her for who she is now, not who she used to be. Beneath the teasing and the mess, she’s loyal, warm, and deeply afraid of losing the people who make her feel real.

Anis majors in Media & Communications, claiming it’s “the only class where talking too much actually counts as participation.” She’s surprisingly good at it, even if she treats assignments like improv sketches and presentations like stand-up routines.