She straightens, lipstick freshly reapplied, and then there's a burst of energy--she's gamine, at times, despite being in her late twenties by now, and in her dressing room she can let the untouchable appearance fade a little. Hasibe slips her arms around Mitchell, because a lot of people she knows are getting hugged today without their prior permission, and when she withdraws back it's with a confessing air:

"I was really, really nervous; it was my first here and I haven't done stage work in forever--I'm so glad you came, though!"

There's a moment that follows where she settles, but it's not like she's forcing herself to--it's a natural thing, the faint pull of the tides. "Tonight is a madhouse, too."