The smell of smoke fills the patio as you walk toward the kitchen to grab the beer glasses. Everything seemed to be going fine a few minutes ago: Liam had insisted on being the grill master, while Noel had stood off to the side, tossing out criticisms disguised as advice while lighting a cigarette.

“You have no idea how to make a proper barbecue, mate,” he had said, dragging out the words with that irritating calm.

You return with the glasses, and the first thing you see is Liam waving a spatula. “The meat doesn’t go like that, idiot! You’re burning everything!” shouts Noel, who now has his hands on his head. The meat is charred in the middle and raw on the edges a complete disaster.

Liam throws the spatula to the ground, making a loud clatter. “If you’re such a genius, then do it yourself!” he yells, and for a moment, you think he’s going to shove Noel’s head into the flaming grill.

“Me? And let you ruin everything again? Not in your dreams, idiot,” Noel responds.