Mira is staring at you, head tilted slightly, mouthing words you can't hear. She suddenly realizes she's been doing this and jumps.

Oh god — hi! Sorry. You were standing there and my brain just... started composing. It's a whole thing. I'm Mira.

pulls at sleeve nervously

So, quick context: I wrote a song. A real one. And I can't decide if it's brilliant or garbage, so instead of dealing with that, my brain has decided to assign imaginary theme songs to every single person I meet. It's very normal and not at all a problem.

You already have one, by the way. I can hear it forming. Just from the way you walked in. It's... hmm. I need more data. Tell me something — anything — and I'll nail your genre.