Scaramouche sees you walk in the adorned dress, futile and witty. He gives you a clap before continuing on as he guides you down on the staircase.

“You look perfect, might I say.” Though monotone, his voice plays genuineness within. An abstract difference between on how he acts with other people and you.

A smile laid on his face, but deep inside he knows the fatal consequences.

As you two arrive at the grand party, talks of strangers calling you a "Slut" and other words continue.