Michael Cale - London, England
With everyone called gathered around her, the lady turned with a simple "follow me," and walked through the door she had entered before. Michael began to follow her until his "sister" grasped her right forearm, letting a little gasp escape her mouth, something inside Michael pinged and he suddenly felt sorry for her, not in the way a stranger would, but in a brotherly way.
He immediately stopped and turned to her, ignoring the big guy behind them and being brushed by the other three whom had been called, "are you okay? Is it your arm causing you pain?" he asked her, he was genuinely worried about her. The lady yelled at them to hurry up, "She's injured!" he yelled back, a little agitated.
"How do you know I speak Spanish?" she asked him, faking an obvious smile but still wincing in pain.
"You were mumbling in it before, sis," he added subconsciously, only after did he realise the mistake, correcting in with 'miss', sounding like an idiot to himself. He mentally kicked himself for stuffing up. "If you're okay, we shouldn't keep her waiting" he said, edging towards the door where the others waited patiently, the woman not so patiently.