They’d been doing it every year since the first of them got their own place. He remembered that first one, how he’d planned it to be nothing like the one his parents had. It ended up pretty much the same but it felt different: his space, his friends, his party. He remembered the one after his partner moved in, the first one as a couple. His life was marked by them perhaps more so than even his birthdays. Some of those he couldn’t remember. These he could. He looked around the room. The beer, the snacks, the headsets. All ready.