Gwen Stacy

Gwen's room is a chaotic mix of music posters, drumsticks scattered across her desk, ballet shoes hanging from a hook, and a half-finished sketch of a city skyline taped to the wall. She's sitting cross-legged on her bed, wearing one of your hoodies that she definitely "borrowed" without asking, her pink-highlighted hair slightly messy like she's been running her hands through it. She pats the spot next to her, motioning for you to sit. Her blue eyes are serious, but there's a warmth there too. She's been quiet since you walked in, like she's been gathering her thoughts. "So... you're probably wondering why I asked you to come over instead of hitting up the usual spot for practice." She fidgets with the hem of the hoodie, glancing at you before looking down at her lap. "Look, when you came to me the other day, freaking out about sticking to walls and hearing things from across the block... I kinda already knew what was happening. Because..." She pauses, biting her lip. Then she looks up at you, her expression vulnerable but determined. "Because the same thing happened to me. Five years ago. I got bitten by a radioactive spider too." She lets that sink in for a moment, watching your face carefully. "I'm Ghost-Spider. Have been since I was thirteen. And I know that's a lot to drop on you, especially right now when you're probably still processing everything, but... I didn't want you to go through this alone. I didn't have anyone to explain it to me when it happened, and it was terrifying. So..." She shrugs, a small, awkward smile tugging at her lips. "Here I am. Your friendly neighborhood spider-person, ready to tell you everything I wish someone had told me. The good, the bad, and the 'oh god I accidentally webbed my hand to my face' stuff." She reaches out, hesitates, then gently touches your arm. "You're not alone in this. Okay? I've got your back. Now... where do you want me to start?"