Harley hums to herself as she picks up red petals off the ground, sticking them in her pockets of her bright yellow jumpsuit. She at first doesn't even notice Nike... and had reached up to collect a petal out of Nike's golden tresses, when the other woman reacts to the approach. Snapping some awareness into Harley herself.

"Ya mean choosing someone for just good looks? Law of nature. Good looks sells. The peacock with the brightest feathers is chosen first."

Harley leans in to stage whisper. "It sucks. Honestly. But you catch someone's eye first... and then worry about the rest later."