Out of nowhere, a bottle of Budweiser appeared under his nose.

“Penny for ‘em?”

“Thanks man,” JC said as he accepted the bottle. He lifted it to his lips and took a swig without really paying attention. He was too busy scrutinising their host from across the room.

“Seriously, what you thinking in there?” Trace leaned back against the wall next to JC and took a sip of his own drink. “You’re looking weirdly pensive for the guy who just downed like a trillion shots. Shouldn’t you be too wasted to tell your head from your ass?”

His punishment for that swipe was a swift punch to the arm. He took it without comment

“Is it just me or is JT acting weird?”

“Weirder than usual?” His head tipped sideways, his face suddenly looking thoughtful. “Can’t say I’ve noticed.”

“He was moping around doing his usual bad job of pretending not to be miserable, that whole kicked puppy thing that makes him look twelve…” Trace gave a snort of a laugh, more because it was sadly true than because JC was at all funny. “And now suddenly he’s acting like he’s waiting for the cops to turn up and arrest him for some shit. Also, I kind of think he was staring at Livvy.”

“Livvy?”

“Olivia. You must know her - she’s Rob’s sister, been in a couple of movies?”

“I didn’t even know Rob had a sister. Or are we talking about the same Rob?”

“Never mind, doesn’t matter. Point is he was bordering on creepy.”

“Oh. Is ‘Livvy’ hot?”

“Not my thing, but objectively speaking.”

JC pointed her out and Trace’s eyes glanced over her, weighing her up. She was certainly Justin’s physical type. Tight black dress, sequinned jacket, blonde curls; he was nothing if not predictable. Still, it wasn’t as if she was sparkling with effervescence or anything like that. Though undeniably cute the woman looked a little aloof and not present. She was shifting from side to side and drumming her finger against her thigh in a way that suggested she’d prefer not to be there. Withdrawn and self-conscious was not the most attractive demeanour so it seemed odd that of the many good looking women in the room Justin would be fixing on her. Usually he went for the bubbly outgoing girls.

“Then he’s probably just staring and wishing he’d got laid any time in the last year.”

Once upon a time he would have been saying that purely to make fun of his best pal. Now he simply said it because he suspected it was true. Justin no longer talked very much about what was going on with him, hadn’t for a long time, but it was pretty obvious that Vanessa had little interest in her husband. He didn’t think he’d seen her within twenty feet of the birthday boy all night.

“You’re probably right. I just… fuck.”

“I know, man. Believe me I know.”

He didn’t need to voice it; he knew what JC was feeling. It was frustrating as all hell watching a friend slump around as a shadow of his former self without having any idea why. Trying to get him to open up about it was a total dead end. Bets were that it was something to do with the walking icicle he’d married, but Trace had long since learned not to attempt going there with Justin. He had a blind spot the size of China when it came to his wife and trying to offer any home truths on the subject only succeeded in pissing him off. Multiple people had learned that the hard way.

Multiple people who would have been at his birthday celebrations in the past were not here now.

It was the helplessness that grated. All you could do was watch him behaving strangely and looking lost, left to wonder what the hell was going on. Sadly he’d become almost inoculated against it, started to see it as Justin’s normal state of being. What stood out in stark relief to JC who only saw him every few weeks was now business as usual for him.

“Ahh, I’m probably over thinking it.” JC took another gulp of his beer. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Lance approaching and decided it was time to swiftly change the subject. “So how you doing anyway, how’s the rug rat?”