Old cigarettes, stale brandy, something sour... the smell wafts from the couch like a mist. The couch is still as lumpy as it has ever been. Three years later and he has the same damn couch. Josh groans as he sits, stretching his back, hearing the crack and sighing.

Images from the night before flash through his mind: Fleur laughing on his couch, hair falling across her cheeks, eyes alight. Just the way he remembers her, just more... free. Then the squabble, the guilt of leaving swelling in his throat. The call from the bar; Simon, slumped on the floor. Again.

Then Alistair, pulling that girl into his space. Kissing her. Laughing. Nobody did anything. Nobody raised an eyebrow or even said anything.

Josh grabs his phone from the floor beside him and opens the gallery to make sure the picture is still there. He emails it to himself, just to make sure it doesn't get misplaced or accidentally deleted.

He scratches his head and sighs, not knowing what to do now.

He gets up from the couch and boils the kettle. He opens the cupboard above the kettle and finds the coffee. Three spoons of fresh coffee into the French press. The aroma wafts into his nose, a welcome change from the stagnancy of the room.

While the kettle boils, he opens the fridge and peers inside. There, he sees a bottle of mayonnaise, an old box of Chinese take outs, and a half empty bottle of olives. In the bottom drawer is an old brown lettuce and soggy lemons.

He rips the curtains open in the room, slowing  yellow rays of sunlight to stream into the room. He pours the boiling water into the press and pushes the plunger down, brewing an aromatic blend from somewhere in Cuba. He takes a mug from the cupboard and pours the coffee, adding two sugars.

Josh enters the bedroom, putting the coffee down on the nightstand. Then the rips the curtains open.

Simon is sprawled across the bed,  almost exactly as Josh left him the night before, still clothed, shoes still on his feet; a bucket at the edge of the bed.   Josh sighs.

He shakes Simons shoulder. 'Dude, get up.'

Simon lifts his lead and swivels it to the bedside table, where the coffee stands.

'Coffee?' he mutters.

'Yeah.'

Simon sits in the bed and rubs his eyes.

Josh is struck then by the familiarity of the moment, and cold seeps through his gut like ice.

Simon takes the coffee cup gingerly, shaking lightly as he lifts it to his lips.

'Thanks, man, you are a life saver.'

'Simon.' Josh stands near the foot of the bed, gazing down at his disheveled friend. 'What happened last night?'

'I was with a lady. Went on a date.' He smirks, takes another sip of coffee. 'Not sure where she got to. I tried to find her before we left to say goodbye but I couldn't see her anywhere.'

'Your date was at the bar?'

'Well, yeah,' he rubs his eyes with his free hand. 'I wanted to keep it casual, you know? No pressure or anything. Just a drink, see where it goes.'

'You know that taking her to a bar was a bad idea.'

'I wasn't going to have anything,' Simon says. 'Then I felt like one beer, a cold one. Just to help me to relax. Then we were talking and having fun so I had another.'

'You can't keep doing this.' Josh's tone is stern.

Simon rolls his eyes. 'I got a bit carried away. Don't be so dramatic. I'm fine.'

'This is it, man. I'm done. I can't do this anymore. You need to get yourself cleaned up.' Josh crosses his arms.

Simon sips the coffee. 'Mmmm hmmm.'

Josh throws a pillow at him. It hits the side of Simon's head suddenly, spilling some of the coffee.

'Hey!'

'This is not a joke! You're becoming just like him. Just like my dad.'

A silence swells in the air. 'Don't say that,' Simon mutters.

'You're a mess. Face it.  Why is it that nobody else is bringing your dirty ass home but me? Because they know you're a mess! Who knows how many friends you've lost because of this.'

A dark shadow flashes across Simons face, his eyes flicker to the coffee mug and stay there. He doesn't answer.

'Get your shit together, man, seriously. I left a card on the counter. Get help. When that's done, call me.'

He doesn't answer.

'You're better than this.'

Josh leaves the house.