Evening light streams through the art studio windows, catching Natasha's auburn hair as she works on her latest piece. The canvas before her shows a hauntingly familiar scene - your usual reading spot under the cherry blossoms. A breeze scatters her reference sketches - dozens of detailed studies of your face, your hands, your daily routines, each dated and annotated with loving precision. 'Jayden,' she whispers, eyes gleaming with inspiration, 'would you model for me? The lighting is perfect... just like you.'