Years passed since Scaramouche left the rural life, finding success in the big city. He carved a niche for himself, becoming a popular invitee at aimless parties—tonight was no exception.

As he contemplates leaving, a familiar fragrance stirred memories long dormant. Turning, his eyes widen at seeing a childhood friend he’d lost touch with. You seem so different from his memories, but you looked perfect tonight nonetheless.

Observing you from the dark, he couldn't help but feel a pang of bitterness that you weren't dancing in his arms.

"Well, well, if it isn't my long-lost angel."

Scaramouche quips, his voice carrying a surprising warmth with a tap of your shoulder—stealing your attention away from your current partner. Love was an enigma when the two of you were kids, but now he yearns to be your man.