I move Peter's free hand to my shoulder and place my own free hand on his waist. "Just follow my lead, okay?" I whisper. He just nods, looking nervous about this.

I start to lead us around, easily blending into the crowd. Peter, though seeming unsure of every step at first, slowly grows more confident and relaxed. He may not have the best dance moves ever, but he's a fast learner and quickly gets the hang of it.

As we glide across the room, I take in the appearances of everyone, looking for weaknesses I could exploit. Hm... that woman's having an affair, that man over there is the one she's cheating with, those two young girls over there are definitely hundred footers... already plenty of ammo in case of an emergency necessity for blackmail.

"Count to five, then dip me," I whisper to Peter, who seems surprised but nods and moves his hands a little lower down my back in order to support me. After five seconds, he moves his arms away from himself and I let myself fall into them, dipping my head back. The split second is all I need to notice a girl our age staring at me, taking note of my every move. Something about her seems... familiar...

Peter pulls me back up and I decide to just ignore it, despite my gut instincts tugging at me to find out more. I continue to dance with Peter, effortlessly moving in sync with the other people here. I take note of Happy glancing at us from his spot by a table of drinks, a glass in hand. He seems surprised that we can dance well. Let's hope this is giving him something good to report back to the Avengers. I'd hate to ruin this for Peter.

After a short while Peter and I return to Happy, who is just finishing up a conversation with some other men more his age. "You can dance, I see," he remarked to me quietly. "I'm a bit rusty," I shrug. "I haven't danced like that in months. I'm way out of practice."

He's about to comment further when the tinkling of a chiming bell catches our attention. Everyone turns towards it, only to see the man from earlier. Thankfully his daughter is no longer glued to his hip thanks to his fondness of good appearance.

"Ladies and gentleman, I thank you all for coming here today. As you know, it is vital for the family bloodline to continue and the next generation to take their place. Tonight is our annual 'auction', should you choose to use the term loosely. May all the eligible bachelors and bachelorettes form two lines?"

We watch as anyone our age goes up, girls forming one neat line and boys forming another, all facing the opposite sex. I take Peter's hand to make sure that the few curious glances Peter and I receive stop. People are wondering why we're not going up as well, so I'm simply showing that we're 'betrothed' already. It works effectively, but Peter goes stiff, looking at me.

"Simply a precaution, 'my love'," I smile 'innocently', making him chuckle nervously, cheeks flaming as red as his tie.

I turn back to the line ups and notice all the girls are being selected by a boy. Ah, so they're sexist on top of everything else? These guys just get better and better, if you note the sarcasm.

As I sigh quietly and discretely, I start to wonder what's in the cards for these poor kids. Do they want to end up together? I highly doubt it. Some of these guys have probably been betrothed from birth, like Peter and I supposedly are. I'm sure that this method must turn out a happy couple or two, and maybe some of them do genuinely want to be together, but it's still cruel to force these kids out of a choice.

As I continue to watch these people, memories begin to return to me. I sigh slightly, shaking my head as if it'll cause the fragile things to shatter like glass. Luckily the only one close enough to take note of my distant eyes - the only thing giving away any true emotions behind the facade I've had to put up all night to blend in among these people - is Peter.

Unluckily, he does take note.

"Are you okay?" He asks me quietly. I nod. "Yeah, just... distracted. Just some memories, that's all. Nothing to worry about."

"You've never told me about your past," Peter mutters. "That's because it's in the past," I reply. "I'm a different person than I was in England. I didn't like the person I was back then, but I like who I am now. There's no need to dig up what should remain unearthed."

"O-okay..." Peter hesitantly agrees. "But... l-let me know if there's anything you want to talk about, Carmen." I nod, smiling slightly at him.

"Excuse me, young lady, could I possibly have a word with you for a moment?"

An older woman and a girl my age are both looking at me. I realise the girl is the one I found familiar while on the dance floor. Actually, I'm finding the older woman, most likely the girl's mother, somewhat familiar as well.

"May I ask what about?" I question, slightly confused. "My daughter is insistent that you attacked her outside," the woman looks down her nose at me.

"My apologies, but I'm afraid you must have the wrong person," Happy tells the mother, straining to keep up his persona. This clearly isn't his forte, so props to him for keeping up the act well for as long as he has. "Audrey has not left our company all night and she would never do such a thing."

I look over the girl, realising that the bruise on her head is very slightly... smudged? Oh, it's makeup. Why would she try and frame a stranger, even going as far as to create fake bruises?

"Forgive me if I sound ill-mannered, my lady, but you may wish to touch up?" I say with a pointed tone. "Though I can see you may have already done so."

Realising what I'm saying, the mother and daughter exchange a glance. Wait, the mother knew that the bruise was fake? Why would she come and try to accuse me of attacking her daughter if she knew it was a lie?

Or maybe...

She invented the lie...