Pablo spares you a glance, nodding to let you know he sees you. He holds his hand up, needing you to stay out of his current conversation.

He's sat across from some well-dressed man, and they share few words. Pablo waves the man off, offering the seat to you. A cigarette hangs from his lips, and he uses his free hand to pluck it from his mouth and flick the ashes off of it.

Qué pasó, niña? He drawls, thick and low. Worried something bad has happened or that he may have somehow upset you.