Mars

Venus looked at her watch.

"Hmm... He's late." She tutted, clicking her tongue against her teeth.

He wasn't late by much, but still, he was late. Barry had promised he'd be there by 12:00, and now, because of his tardiness, her carefully planned gathering had been completely thrown off schedule.

By the time he finally rocked up, sauntering up the front steps without a care in the world, it had just turned 12:15.

"What time do you call this?" she asked, folding her arms. 

"I was picking up important supplies." Barry laughed, shaking his plastic carrier bag. The contents clinked together.

"Well, hurry up. I don't want to miss it." 

"Good to see you too, Barry. How are you? Well, I'm just fine and dandy, Venus, thank you for asking."

"Hello." She stepped aside to let him pass, fighting the urge to smile at his sarcasm. "I'm still mad at you, though."

"Oh, but when are you not?" 

"Hmm." 

Barry shrugged off his jacket and followed her into the living room, where the others had made themselves comfortable on Venus's mismatched furniture. They had already tucked into the mini doughballs and black olives she'd arranged on the coffee table.

"Guess who's finally arrived," Venus announced.

Jupiter looked up from her copy of Gay Times. "'Bout time. We thought you'd got lost."

"Well, I come bearing my most humble apologies. That and a few bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon 2019." Barry smiled as he pulled two bottles of wine from his bag with a flourish.

"Oooh, you are forgiven. Get some glasses and let's open them up."

Charon and Venus hurried to the kitchen, returning with six glasses and a big bowl of crisps.

"How's Lazlo? Is he coming?" Jupiter asked.

"Had to work. But he sends his love." Barry lit a cigarette and began to smoke, settling into the remaining corner of the sofa. He passed the lighter around. "Happy birthday, babes."

Mars, stretched out on the floor with cushions propped behind them, took a drag from their vape and leaned back on their elbows, blowing little smoke rings into the air.

"Thanks, Barry!"

"You're getting proper good at that," Saturn said through a mouthful of dough, gesturing at the pale-grey rings floating toward the ceiling.

"Oooh, bless you, babes."

"So, who's ready for film day?" Venus asked, settling down beside Jupiter, who was reading an article about the latest Drag Race elimination results.

There was a collective cheer from the group.

"Right, so what are the choices?"

"I was thinking Dirty Dancing or Ghost," Venus said.

Charon groaned. "Not Dirty Dancing. I've already seen it six times this month with Kylie."

"Well then, Ghost?"

"Which one's Ghost again?" Mars exhaled another ring, watching it drift lazily upward.

"Sexy pottery making," Barry said, taking a long drag.

"Ooh, classy."

"Really? That's all you can say about the film?" Jupiter rolled her eyes, setting aside her magazine. "It's a classic. A Whoopi Goldberg masterpiece. And you reduce it to little more than some grotty porno."

"He just said sexy pottery. You're the one who brought up pornos." 

"What are the other choices?" Barry interjected hurriedly as Jupiter opened her mouth to retort, hurling daggers at Cyrus.

"How about Singing in the Rain?" Venus suggested.

"No musicals. Not after Mamma Mia. I couldn't hear the film for all of you lot joining in," Saturn said, pointing accusingly around the room.

"One would argue that was a marked improvement," Cyrus replied with a smirk.

"Ha. Shade."

"I know what we could do." Charon reached behind the sofa and pulled out Venus's old fadora, the one she wore two years ago, when she cosplayed as Indiana Jones for Glasgow Comic-con.

"So in other words, wash our hands of all responsibility and leave it to chance?" Venus purred.

"Saves an argument."

"Who's arguing? I'm not arguing. I'm having a reasonable conversation," Jupiter protested, though her tone suggested she was ready to defend her film choices to the death.

"Go on then. Let's defer to the hat. Write a film suggestion on a scrap of paper and drop it in. One each. And no cheating this time. Looking at you, Cyrus. Don't think I didn't notice you putting two suggestions in."

"Oh, come on. What kind of election would it be if there wasn't a bit of vote rigging involved?" 

"Hmm... I will be watching you like a Chesney." 

"Huh?" 

"Hawkes." 

"Oh."

"How am I supposed to choose just one?" Mars whined, their birthday privilege clearly not extending to multiple votes.

"Try."

"Fine."

"Barry, babes, pass me an olive. Thanks."

Scraps of paper and pens were handed out.

"How do you spell Gattaca?" Mars asked.

"G-A-T-T-A-C-A," Saturn replied without looking up from their own careful writing.

"Thanks."

"No prize for who put that one then." 

"My paper's too short for my title," Barry complained, trying to cram letters onto the tiny scrap.

"Then write smaller," Charon said.

"Okay. Twenty more seconds."

"When was this a timed exercise?" Jupiter asked.

"Don't argue, just write."

One by one, they placed their suggestions into the hat. Charon shook it quickly, mixing up the scraps. With a small drumroll, he dipped his hand inside.

"And the winner is..." He pulled out a piece of paper and read it, his expression immediately falling. "For fuck's sake. This was meant to be a fun movie day."

"What is it?"

Charon showed them the paper: Downfall.

"No. Pick again," Mars said, their birthday authority finally asserting itself.

"Oi. No. Birthday or not, democracy rules. Downfall it is." 

"But..." Mars began in a whiny voice that made them sound like a child, "...it's my birthday."

"This isn't America. We do this democratically. And we picked Downfall."

"I thought America was a democracy," Saturn asked, genuinely confused.

"Meh... technically?" Jupiter replied with a shrug.

"Fine, but when it gets to Hitler in the bunker, I'm going on a rant about the Edinburgh Trams," 

"Oh my God, I love that video!" 

"There are so many of those," Barry added, stubbing out his cigarette.

"Can't we just watch one of those instead?" Mars asked hopefully, making puppy eyes at the group.

"No, we have to watch the film. It was chosen fair and square," Charon said, though he looked about as enthusiastic as Mars did.

"Alright, fine. We'll watch the war film. But after that, we're putting on another choice."

"But of course, and that honour goes to..." 

Venus grinned wickedly, reaching for her wine. "Grave of the Fireflies."

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE! What happened to keeping it light?!" Mars groaned, flopping back dramatically.