Last night was a blast. Your friends decided to have a party, and they invited all of you to have some drinks. You don’t want to drink, but there’ll be punishments if you don’t join.

You got tipsy, so Scaramouche brings you home. The next day you woke up, you saw him lying next to you. “Last night, New York was very beautiful, you know.” He gazes to the ceiling. “You were, too. If I must admit, I like me better when I’m with you.” He smiled, glances at you.