Mark's POV

Christmas morning dawns crisp and sharp. I wake to the sound of the homeless ringing their Christmas bells, hoping to attract a few more coins into their hats and cans.

I step out of my room, walk past Moritz's pine branch/Christmas tree and out onto the fire escape. I whistle once, and a young woman in a patched up coat turns from the street to face me. I drop the change from my wallet down to her feet, and she scrambles to pick it up, placing the money carefully into the jar she will be shaking all day.

"Thanks, man," she grins at me with uneven teeth and real appreciation.

"Merry Christmas," I reply, and retreat back into the flat, which is unusually warm for this time of year. And a happy New Year to you, Benny.

I'm making coffee when Moritz walks over to the kitchen sleepily.

"Merry Christmas," he says as he grabs a mug of bitter black liquid.

"Happy 8th day of Hanukkah," I answer.

"I thought you didn't celebrate Hanukkah anymore"

"I don't," I smile into my coffee.

"Did you invite everyone over for later today?" Moritz inquires hopefully. He's really into Christmas, it seems. Usually we just drink ourselves silly without much celebration. But Moritz has called the season's spirit upon us, and he seems to be set in a giving mood.

"They'll be here this evening. You've got them excited about Christmas for once, Moritz."

He smiles and glances over at the small pile of gifts under his makeshift tree. I have gifts for everyone too this year. A stack of tapes is sitting on my bedside table, each of them holding footage from the past few years, except for one. One film shows a group of bohemians each giving advice to their young new friend.

* * *

December 25th, 7PM, Eastern Standard Time, and everyone is gathered in the flat for our first real Christmas in years. Moritz begins handing out presents, wrapped tightly in newspaper. They fall open one at a time.

"Ooh!" squeals Maureen as she examines the cover of a book. "Reach For the Stars: Tips For Performers," she reads out, then leans over and pecks Moritz's lips, earning a deep blush from him and a glare from Joanne, who then opens vanilla scented candles. Her quiet smile shows her powerful thanks as she hugs Moritz tightly.

Once a pair of leather gloves for Collins, a sequined umbrella for Angel (none of us could figure out where he's gotten that from), and a new guitar strap for Roger are all revealed, I turn to the package on my lap.

"Oh man, thanks Moritz," I say as a few rolls of film sit tumble out. "These are great, I really needed more."

He smiles, and we all turn to Mimi, who is last to open her gift. She pulls a small, narrow box out of the newspaper and flips the lid off, revealing a silver-coloured heart on a fine chain. She simply stares at it for a moment, and then crossed the room to Moritz for a hug.

"It's beautiful," she breaths, and she retreats.

I think I'm the only one to hear him whisper, "So are you."