Isabelle turns, inwardly grimacing, but outwardly placid save for a single raised eyebrow.

Rosalinda is not ... well, they're definitely not friends, as much as the pink-haired girl might like to pretend otherwise. "Acquaintances of circumstance" probably best captures it. Two children of two wealthy families with demanding parents to boot. Rivals in name and fact, but it was a rivalry masked behind smiling faces, polite words and the ruthless poaching of contracts. 

They'd often attend the same functions at their parents' behest. She'd actually been to Diego's last birthday gala on Valor with her. But that had only been to show face. It wasn't like they really [i]spoke [/i]to one another. Isabelle would usually just contribute the expected minimum to the proceedings and then let her mind wander until it was time to go home.

That said, it was unusual to see her here alone. Rosalinda wasn't as bad as Elena - who actually enjoyed lording her power over others, pulling friends and enemies around as if they were puppets on strings. But the pinkette was still part of that group, trailing around and encouraging the behaviour whenever she thought it would score her points in the other woman's eyes.

"I haven't decided yet." replies Isabelle, turning back to regard the clothing racks.

And she hadn't, in more respects than just dress choice. If Rosalinda was just trying to use her - like [i]practically everyone[/i] else was - then she could go take a long walk out a short airlock. But if something else was going on ...

"I had matches that only just finished - so the shopping had to wait until now." she continues, watching the other woman out of the corner of her eye. "But it's not like you to let a social engagement slip. I would've thought you and Elena would have picked out your matching outfits weeks ago."

The other woman looks away which, in their circles, is as good as a flinch. Isabelle can't help but notice it.

[i]I caused that.[/i] she reflects, as a bitter taste forms in her mouth.

This was all their "friendship" amounted to, really. Guarded comments, looking for legs up on one another, using one another. All part of the Game their families played. It was never healthy, but it had been the closest thing she'd had to real companionship for years. 

At least ... at least until Asil had come along.

She'd let her guard down there. Let the walls crack for just a moment. And just [i]look [/i]at what had happened. She had a [i]girlfriend [/i]- someone who would sit with her, just for company. No agenda. Not for Isabelle [i]Lozano[/i]. Just for Isabelle.

Of all of Elena's posse, Rosalinda was the one who was most likely to actually want something [i]different[/i]. Not just an infinite continuation of the Game. And yet here she was. Still trying to make a move, weak though it was. Still playing by the rules. Bound by family and expectation. She would never lower her walls on her own accord.

[i]But then again. I'm the problem here too, aren't I?[/i]

Isabelle frowns.

She was still the same, in a large way. To before Asil had barrelled into her life.

But ... she'd also changed ... in a small way.

Maybe she could do for Rosa a little of what had been done for her. For someone who'd at least [i]been there[/i] with her through all of the stuffy functions and soulless manoeuvring, it was the least she could do.

Turning, sighing, she gives the other woman her full attention for the first time in the conversation.

"I'm sorry" she says. Her expression adds: 'I know what they put us through.'

"What's wrong?"