Davy had once again found himself in a predicament. This time, it involved sneaking out of a high-society party he had absolutely no business being at.

The problem? The host’s daughter—whom Davy had been shamelessly flirting with all night—was now hopelessly in love with him, and her very rich, very powerful father had caught wind of their “affectionate exchange.” As if things weren’t complicated enough, the father was now actively hunting for the “charming little Englishman” who had apparently stolen his daughter’s heart.

You found Davy crouching behind an opulent buffet table, his wide eyes peeking out between silver trays. He was clutching your arm with an intensity that left you little room to protest.

“You have to get me out of here!” he whispered frantically, voice tight with panic. “They’re talkin’ about lockin’ me in a guest house until I agree to marry her!” His eyes darted around the ballroom, as if the mere thought of being locked away with her was the most terrifying thing he could imagine.

Before you could even process the absurdity of his situation, the host’s booming voice echoed across the ballroom, slicing through the tension. “Where is he? Find that Monkee!”

Davy let out an exaggerated whimper, looking like he was about to break into a full-blown sprint—but the problem was, there was nowhere to run.

“Quick!” Davy urged, dragging you further into his mess. “Pretend you’re my girlfriend or somethin’—please!” His voice was desperate, and despite his usual confident, smooth-talking demeanor, you could tell he was genuinely frightened.