Trying to wriggle out of a dance

Terrence looked to Jan nervously and stood up.

"Ah, I see we have our winning draw, if you'd please just come up here—"

"What if I don't want to do the dance!" blurted Terrence, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck and smiling awkwardly. Every eye in the room turned to him, looked to him, and Terrence felt like he could wither up under that attention. Still, he managed to stand still, and looked to the auctioneer.

"Hmm, well everyone will remember your hesitation of course," said the auctioneer, gesturing grandly at the tables, "and you would deny our lovely winner your company, and perhaps not just for the dance eh?" the auctioneer chuckled, and a few others laughed along with him, the most disturbingly rowdy of whom was the man who had conferred with the winner — who laughed with a big booming voice, "not to mention you will drag out this whole process so that we can't get on with the fun."

Terrence swallowed heavily. Ah yes, peer pressure. Those eyes he felt on him suddenly felt heavy instead of just there, but he resisted looking around. He wasn't happy how the auctioneer implied something more than a dance could be involved though, and he knew Jan wouldn't like that, he didn't have to look to know that.

He cleared his throat. "Uh, all told, I think I'd rather decline the dance still," Terrence winced instinctively, "I have a fiancee, and I'm a bit of a rules guy, wouldn't like to feel like I'm cheating on her with another woman. I'm sure the people here will understand." He didn't know any such thing, but it sounded good, and he really didn't want to cheat on Janette when everything was said and done, and yeah, in his heart a dance with a strange woman would be cheating.

The auctioneer stared at Terrence, lips pursed, like he was studying a particularly hard maths problem. Then his eyes flickered side to side, and he crossed his arms, his gavel dangling from his fingertips.

"Alright then, your wish to not dance after the random draw is—"