The party was dull. Music thudded, making the glasses on the table jump and it was impossible to dance to (some weird kind of beat that made him feel sick).
The volume meant that conversation was also difficult. He was glad, he didn't feel in the mood to talk to anyone he knew and the people he didn't know looked like arseholes. The one person he had been introduced to - out in the hallway where the bang-bang-bang of the music was just at the level that you could shout over it - was up his own arse and expected everyone else to be up there with him.
"A director of the movie," Christian told him, as he invited him to shake the man's hand.
"The movie?" he'd asked, slightly confused.
"Yes," came the response. Perhaps he had misread the invitation. He thought it was Christian's birthday - and had bought a present in anticipation.
...
