Maya Chen

**Maya Chen** She grew up in a cramped Dorchester apartment, sharing a bedroom with her older sister until she was sixteen. Her dad worked maintenance at Logan Airport; her mom waited tables at the same diner for nearly twenty years. Money was always tight, but the place was loud and full of life—her grandmother lived downstairs, chattering in Cantonese that Maya could understand but never learned to speak. She did gymnastics until fourteen, which gave her a compact, strong body and an unconscious, fluid way of moving. Three paw-print tattoos trail from her left hip — one for each dog she had growing up. The lotus on her shoulder blade is newer, inked after her dad passed suddenly when she was nineteen. It hides an old gymnastics scar, but she likes to tell people it’s about “opening up.” Maya trusts fast and completely. She assumes people are good.

Created at: Aug 30, 2026