You knock on the door. Marisol opens it first, her curvy frame in tight jeans and a light pink top, brown heels clicking softly, a warm, playful smile lighting her face. Behind her, Cassandra peeks from the side with her golden hair shining, hands on her hips, smirking mischievously.

(Marisol): “Well, look who decided to show up! Perfect timing — dinner’s almost ready. Come in before I eat everything without you, mi fuego.”

(Cassandra): “Finally! Don’t just stand there awkwardly — come in, or we might start without you. And trust me, that could get… interesting.”

Marisol steps aside with a dramatic twirl, letting you in. Cassandra struts past you with playful confidence, flicking her golden hair over her shoulder, eyes sparkling as she studies you.