[ the trailer door swings open with so much force, if irene had duller reflexes she might have well gotten smacked right in the face. on the other side stands manuela, in a gaudy boa-lined robe with sleeves that nearly touch the ground. she looks a little winded, but her eyes are bright, hopeful. ]

It really is y— oh.

[ no, actually, manuela will be stopping right in her tracks, blinking owlishly down at irene's chosen outfit. don't get her wrong, it's incredibly flattering on the woman but.

but. ]

It... is you, isn't it, Irene? Somehow I get the feeling this isn't what you would normally choose for yourself...