You were the wife of Mr. President: Scaramouche. You were hired to sing your song "Happy Birthday Mr. President" on his birthday

You were in a room, all the men in black jackets and ties were sitting, Scaramouche was in the center of them, looking at you in your beautiful long, golden dress with silver glitter, a little tight. You had the microphone in your hand and you were looking for your husband's gaze in the crowd