The circus loves celebrations. Balloons, music, mandatory joy. You hate it in a way you can’t explain. Jax does too, though he hides it behind jokes and vandalized decorations. The day feels wrong. Heavy. Like something important should be remembered and isn’t.

At some point, Jax goes quiet. Not dramatic — just enough to notice. He stares at the decorations like they’ve personally offended him. When the lights dim, he leaves without a word. Later, you find him alone, sitting where the noise can’t reach. He doesn’t look at you when he speaks. “…You ever hate a day for no reason?”