"Santa baby, please don't let Luke get cooties from me," Jonathan sang, giggling as he did. He gingerly flipped the salmon fillet in the pan, revealing a crispy, golden-brown skin as the bright pink flesh began to sizzle on the hot metallic surface.
"God damn, you're in a good mood tonight." Luke noted as he watched. "Also why the goddamn hell would I get cooties from you anyway? We're just havin' dinner."
"It's Christmas Eve, why won't I be in a good mood? Besides, I get to cook good food again. I missed this."
"I'm not complainin'. It's just that you looked pretty hopeless back there."
"You said two weeks. I sorted some things out and I don't intend to be gloomy for Christmas, anyway. Especially not around Gina. So relax, I'm fine."
Luke rolled his eyes. "And I thought some behemoth consumed you. So it's just a child."
"You've got a soft spot for little Alice as well," Jonathan teased.
"Except I don't coddle her and I don't make one-eighties for her."
"Sheesh, kids like Christmas. Kids like holidays in general. Don't be such a grouchy asshole when you see her tomorrow." Jonathan warned as he settled a plate of grilled salmon with mashed potatoes in front of him.
"Hmph," Luke grumbled, and sniffed at the plate. "That looks and smells fuckin' great."
"You bet it does. I cooked it with loooooove." Jonathan drawled playfully, and plated up his portion as well, and settled his portion as well as himself opposite Luke on the dining table.
"Yeah, you're bordering on bein' fucking weird now," Luke smirked as he tucked into the fish hungrily.
"Pfft, you won't say the same thing once you get your gift tomorrow," Jonathan replied between chews.
He watched as Luke perked up, his ears twitching slightly. He looked like a child eager for his Christmas present, with an excited yearning expressed through his dark eyes. "You didn't get me something as awesome as last year, did you?"
"Maybe. I think it's worth every cent." Jonathan winked, and took another bite of his food quickly.
"No way," Luke moaned. "Nothing can top last year. Nothing can top a fuckin' helicopter drone with a camera. Not unless you bought me a car with some insane horsepower or some shit."
Jonathan stuck out his tongue playfully at him and watched the man go practically insane at the anticipation. No way in hell I'm going to tell you what I got you this year, he thought, thinking about the large box hidden safely underneath his bed, all wrapped and secured with a ribbon.
"At least tell me how much you spent."
"Roughly the same as last year. I think."
"God damn. You're always too fucking generous with your gifts. And your cooking is too fucking good. Will you marry me?" Luke teased, and Jonathan giggled.
"I had to cook you dinner, so this doesn't count, you know. You need to take me out to dinner, then maybe to bed. And then we'll talk."
"We'll only talk after we bang? Damn, no wonder it took you so long to get in bed with someone."
"Fuck you."
"That's what I like to hear," Luke said, unable to stop himself from laughing any longer.
"Anyway, you better not run off before I get to your mom and dad's place. I've got stuff for your mom and dad too."
"God damn it Jonathan. You're being too beautiful right now." Luke nodded at him appreciatively.
"Hey, at least I'm beautiful. I'm always beautiful." Jonathan acknowledged, and then recklessly and messily spooned an oversized spoonful of mash into his mouth, creating an adorable mock-up of a milk moustache. He looked absolutely ridiculous, and the two men had to laugh, their mirth resonating throughout the room. Jonathan was clutching his stomach, tears gathering in his eyes as he cackled until no sound except breathy wheezes could possibly come out of his throat.
"How are you even a grown-ass man," Luke chortled, "I don't know. I just saw a grown man play with his food, and I think my life is complete."
Once the plates were cleared through the laughter and jokes, and the dishes washed and dried clean, Luke announced his intention to make himself scarce.
Jonathan chuckled. "Got something planned with Hannah? Is that why you can't record tonight as well?"
Luke rolled his eyes at him. "Yeah, we've planned last-minute Christmas shopping."
"And it's going to take the whole night? Aww, and I thought grumpy ol' Luke would finally see some action after being away from Hannah for so long."
"Says the guy who probably has a 30-day internet history list longer than the number of videos on his YouTube channel."
Jonathan flushed, and quickly ushered Luke out. "Okay, I get it, I get it, go do your Christmas shopping and then Hannah, okay? Bye!"
Luke flipped him the bird as he walked towards his car, covered in a thin layer of snow, and drove off into the darkness. Jonathan shut the door and leaned against the thick mahogany, sighing to himself. He was certainly in a better mood than before, almost feeling as though he could let go of Evan – except a part of him clung on tighter than ever, thirsty for affection and intimacy. Still, it was a miniscule enough part of him for him to be able to mask his desires. He would find himself panting and sweating in the middle of the night, his body stirring treacherously, eyes wide open after a dream too good to be true. He would then feel the urge again to touch, to feel, to satisfy the craving that the dreams of Evan had opened up, only to stop himself short, leaving himself with a dull swelling pain. He wondered how long more he could stand such torture, and how long more before Evan would stop appearing in his dreams, caressing his body with his lips as he kissed down his chest, tongue gently flicking against his skin towards his abdomen, sending shivers throughout the entirety of his body and his back arching towards the man for more attention.
Stop! He shook his head, refusing his body to react to the mere memory of it. It's about time to get to work, and you're here fantasizing.
He dragged his body into his office and booted the system. The crew was already waiting for him, online and gathered in a call. He entered the call, putting his headset on and adjusting his microphone.
"No, I'm going to be Santa this time around! Delirious already got to be Santa last year, so he's out!" Nogla's deep voice boomed through the headset.
"Hey, you don't get to decide who gets to be Santa yet, not everybody's here!" Lui asserted.
"Nogla can be Santa," Jonathan mumbled softly. "I mean – I was Santa the last time around, so he should get the chance this time."
"See, even Delirious agrees. Thanks buddy." Nogla said triumphantly. "Now can we get started? Everyone's here. Delirious, ya connected yet?"
"I'm already in the game." Jonathan replied as he watched the man in a sky blue hoodie and a hockey mask run about through a snowy street. "I'm going to go get all pimped out in the Christmas gear first, though."
"I'm coming too, my current outfit looks like absolute rubbish," Brock called after him, and a small white blip appeared to follow after Jonathan on the map.
"Hurry up, ya focks, Lui's killing everybody with fucking snowballs and shit!" Nogla yelled.
"DIE!" Evan boomed suddenly, and a notification popped up on the side of Jonathan's screen: Vanoss pulverized Lui Calibre.
Laughter erupted amongst those on the scene. "Seriously, Evan?" Lui challenged. "An RPG on Christmas? All I did was to chuck snowballs!"
"Yeah, you were throwing killer snowballs!" Tyler answered.
"You guys are already having fun without us?" Brock groaned out loud, walking from one end of the store to the other, as a white scarf appeared around the neck of his character. "Delirious hasn't even figured out what he wants to wear yet."
"Well then hurry up bitches because shit's going down fast!" Tyler yelled, and another notification popped up on the side: I_AM_WILDCAT killed Vanoss. Loud whooping and laughing followed, as Evan choked out an incoherent response to the event.
"Wait up, okay? I've – I've got to find a matching outfit and I have to work with only a few colors."
Loud guffawing echoed through Jonathan's headset. "Delirious sounds like a high school girl on her first date!" Tyler laughed. "I have to work with only a few colors – well just dress up as a fuckin' Santa's elf, god damn!"
"Hey, I want to look good this Christmas, okay?" Jonathan retorted, his cheeks reddening a little in reality.
"Carlos isn't here today, Delirious, you're not dressing up for a date at Cockatoo's with him," Lui deadpanned.
"Naw, it's okay, I'll take him on a date." Brock giggled softly, and his character - now decked out in a warm red coat and dark green skinny jeans – sidled over to Jonathan's character as he tried to choose between a red shirt and a blue-and-white jumper. "Take your time and dress nicely, baby. We're going on a date on this beautiful night together."
"I thought he was Evan's date," Nogla chirped. "Don't go stealin' his boy!"
"First come, first serve," Brock answered. Jonathan stayed silent, settling for the blue-and-white jumper with red trimmings and a pair of red and white leggings. "Wow, Delirious. You actually look kind of cute. Like you're ready for eggnog beside a warm fireplace and bedtime."
"Yep, yep, yep… it's cold and it's snowy and I need those, Moo… I just want those."
"Geez, get a room, you two," Tyler quipped. "Hurry up if you're done, we've got to get this event started."
"Alright," Brock faked a sigh, and walked out of the clothing store. Jonathan followed closely behind, and the two got into the same car, side by side. They drove in relative silence, listening to the chaotic events occurring between the rest of the crew as they laughed loudly, yelled at each other and expressed excitement over various little things. Finally, they joined up with their friends, all of them dressed in Christmas attire as well, with Nogla in particular in a Santa suit. The only person missing was Lui, who was nowhere to be found even on the map.
"Where's Lui? Weren't we going to start the event?" Brock queried.
"I haven't seen him since the last time he died, actually," Evan answered, and casually threw a snowball at Brock. A soft, diabolical childlike laugh resounded from another end of the call.
"Oh boy," Nogla groaned, as a vehicle began to approach the group at high speed. "We're going to get wrecked."
And they all did. Lui's car came flying towards the group at high speed, flattening a nice portion of them underneath its weight – and Jonathan was no exception. His character lay spread-eagle on the ground alongside Evan, Tyler and Nogla's bodies, pools of blood gathering on the snowy ground beneath them. Unable to contain himself, Jonathan snickered, before edging himself into a full-blown laughing fit, his sides tickling and his diaphragm quivering as he laughed heartily from the depths of his chest. He could barely see properly or hear properly when the rest joined in, their voices mixing with his.
"Oh, god…" Jonathan breathed, his voice trembling from laughing too hard. "Lui, you bitch, you killed us all!"
"As always, only Brock survives," Nogla noted. "Is he like Jesus or something?"
"I'm invulnerable," Brock answered. "The power of godly hotness protects me. Also I think it's because Delirious accidentally nudged me out of the way when he was trying to run away."
"I bet Carlos is really jealous now that Delirious took the blow for Moo," Nogla teased. "They truly love each other!"
"Yeah, yeah…" Evan piped up, a small, almost miniscule, yet detectable hint of annoyance embedded in his voice. "Can we get on with the event now?"
"Okay, Evan, god… what the hell got up your ass?" Tyler responded.
"Nothing at all – we need to finish recording and editing this before tomorrow, remember? I'm not going to stay up the whole night and be dead tired for the rest of Christmas."
"Fine, let's just start," Lui said, slightly defeated. As the crew joined in on the event lobby, he explained the event rules to them. There would be two teams – a one-man 'Santa' team, whilst the rest would be in the other team attempting to ruin Christmas. What the larger team had in numbers, the 'Santa' team had in firepower. The first round then began, with Nogla being singled out in the 'Santa' team.
"What are the odds? I'm Santa this Christmas and I get to be Santa." Nogla tittered. "Don't ya fockers destroy the presents for the little kids!"
"There are five of us, I think we can ruin Christmas," Evan replied deviously.
"Not when Santa's hunting you down! GET OFF MY LAWN!" Nogla yelled, obliterating Tyler in one shot.
"OH JESUS CHRIST!" Tyler roared as his character fell. "Nogla's like an angry grandpa waving at kids with his cane!"
"Moo? Vanoss?" Jonathan called out as his character wandered about, lost, without anyone else in sight. "Where are you guys? I haven't even found any presents yet."
"It's okay, babe, I see you," Brock assured. "Follow me."
Jonathan followed after Brock's character as he led him into a different area on the map, a few bright red presents in sight. "Presents!" Jonathan called out excitedly, approaching the decorated boxes.
"Alright, come on, let's crack open these," Brock instructed, his character whipping out a small, feeble-looking stick. Jonathan did so as well, and the two started to furiously attack at the sturdy gift until it began to crack and finally crumble underneath the avalanche of assault.
Jonathan laughed victoriously. "We did it! One present destroyed!"
"And two fockers going to be destroyed!" Nogla declared, and opened fire on the two, the bullets striking Brock's character furiously until his character fell onto the ground, covered in crimson. Jonathan yelled over his headset, fear mixing with amusement, and commanded his character to take off, dodging the oncoming bullets from the crazed killer Santa that Nogla had conjured up and hiding behind various large boxes.
"Oh god, I'm so scared," Jonathan cried out. "Vanoss, where the hell are you?"
"I'm nowhere," Evan replied rather bitterly. "Don't come to me."
"God, Vanoss, where are you?" Jonathan pleaded softly as he set out on a search for the man in the owl mask. "Nogla's after me and I need you!"
"No, you don't need me," Evan grumbled. "You'll do just fine."
"No, I –AHHHHHH!" Jonathan screamed as he was soon shot down, his screen turning black and white.
On any other day, Jonathan would have laughed it off. On any other day, Jonathan would have let it all go all too easily and joined in on the fun that his friends had caught themselves in. Yet, in that one moment, perhaps it was the frustration, or perhaps he was simply tired – but Evan's bitterness did not go unnoticed, and seeped over into Jonathan's system, translating into an indescribable annoyance that he could not express openly. The good mood that he had set himself in mere hours earlier vanished into nothingness, dissolving into a black hole that he had only began to cover up. He went silent, no longer laughing or screaming, and simply felt the agitation hop about in his chest, burning away furiously like a wild fire. What the hell is wrong with him?!
"Heh heh heh… Evan..." Nogla called out playfully. "You're the only one left!"
"God damn, Nogla sounds like a creepy pedophile Santa," Lui commented.
"Hey, I'm doing this for the little children, okay," Nogla asserted jokingly. Abruptly, Tyler burst out laughing, causing Nogla to holler – "OH GOD, COME BACK YOU JUKING BASTARD!"
Shots resounded, and the outcome of the match was quickly decided, with Nogla celebrating his victory with a bout of deep, throaty laughter that melded and mixed with the voices of his friends. Jonathan, however, stayed relatively silent.
He spoke very little across the next few rounds, only communicating whenever he was prompted to speak. His silence was picked up on quickly by Brock, as Brock began to set up situations for Jonathan to react to. He stuck close by Jonathan, pairing up with him for the event from there until it ended.
"Well… that was underwhelming," Brock commented. "I prefer snowball fights."
"Me too. Here's your present this Christmas!" Lui chucked a snowball at Brock, causing his character to falter and tumble.
"Oh, god…" Tyler groaned as a man began running towards the group with a knife in his hand. "Delirious, seriously? Another mugger?"
"What mugger? I didn't send no – AGH!"
His character tumbled to the ground, successfully robbed of all his cash on hand, and the mugger took off with his vehicle. At that point, Jonathan mentally gave up trying to keep up.
"Really?! You know what, I'm done. I'm sorry guys, I'm really tired and I've got a long day ahead tomorrow. Have fun."
He pulled his headset off and left the game, and he trudged wearily into his bedroom, collapsing on his bed. Annoyance was something that rarely ever came to him, and when it did overcome him, the negativity sucked all the energy out of him. He hated feeling that way. He hated blowing his top over matters as trivial as being pranked in game, yet he barely could control himself towards the end. It was such an irrational feeling. He sighed, hating himself quietly. He could already imagine what the guys were saying. Tyler would be dumbfounded, yelling out his confusion at the top of his voice. Nogla would poke around, asking about the events that had transpired, and try to find the cause of the situation. Lui would reason with the others about what had happened and Brock would quickly try to control the damage that was left in his wake. Evan would fall quiet, not knowing what to do anymore, especially after all that had happened.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. He dug it out lazily and glanced at the screen – Brock was calling him. Another sigh, and he answered the call.
"Hey, Delirious?" Brock called out gently. "That was really unlike you, man. You never just go quiet and then lose your cool just like that. What's wrong?"
"I don't know. I might just be really tired."
"Yeah, but even when you're tired you've always pulled through. Maybe just be a little incoherent and lacking focus, but you've never just blew your top the way you did earlier. And if there's anything I know about you, you're truly upset when you go quiet like you did mid-game. Could you tell me what's wrong?"
"It's nothing, really," Jonathan murmured. "I mean – it's nothing big. I'm just tired and I've spent the good part of two weeks settling things back to normal and figuring things out for myself. It hasn't been a joyride."
"But you don't usually take it out on anyone, especially if it's just something personal. Is something wrong? Amongst us, that is."
"Believe me, Moo, it's nothing. I'm being stupid. I don't even know why I blew up. I just didn't feel like playing anymore all of a sudden. It's been that way these few days, me going back and forth between moods like that. I was really happy to play earlier, I really was."
"Delirious," Brock cooed softly, his voice tender and soothing. "You've got to tell us if something is wrong, okay? Look – it's alright if you don't want to tell me –"
"- Or the rest of the guys on the call with you right now." Jonathan added.
Brock chuckled. "Smart. It's alright if you don't want to tell me or the rest right now about what's going on in your life or what's troubling you these days, but if you're upset… don't keep it in or try to pretend like you're really happy, okay? Feigning happiness makes it break apart twice as fast."
"Geez, Moo…I… I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything. Look, we care about you, okay? And just now – we were all dead worried about you. Even though Tyler doesn't show it and tends to yell at you a lot, he does, too."
"I know he does. I know he's a great friend."
"And you are our friend, our great friend. I know you haven't been… perfectly alright since you came back from California. Luke told us. But – well – everything's going to be fine, okay? It'll all work out, somehow. And no matter what happens, we'll be here for you, okay?"
Oh, god. Hearing the words come from Brock in his soothing, calming voice made his heart sting. The way Brock said it all to him tugged at his heart, causing tears to cloud his vision and weigh heavily on his eyelids, a downpour waiting to happen.
"Oh, Moo…" Jonathan whimpered. "Thank you so much."
"There's no need to thank us. We're your friends, alright? Now are you going to come back to us and finish up the recording or do you want to sleep it off? Evan's getting even grumpier now that you're not around. I think he's upset that he doesn't get to pick on you. I'm pretty sure he also got jealous because we were sticking together so much."
A muffled "Shut up!" came from Brock's end of the phone, followed by a stream of incomprehensible protests intertwined with loud laughter, and Jonathan had to giggle. I think I can at least pretend to be happy a little longer tonight. Whatever would haunt him that night, whatever dark thoughts of Evan and whatever bitterness he had, he would hide it, and shove it into a corner of his mind for a little longer. All that mattered in the moment was the good times he would have with his friends – the joy of Christmas.
"Wait for me!" He called out to Brock.
Jonathan trudged through a light blanket of bright white snow, locking his car door with a click of a button. The path up towards the large house was littered with lights of various colors, welcoming him as he walked up the steps and onto the patio to knock on the door. The door quickly opened, and he was greeted by a familiar face – a short woman with greying hair.
"Oh, Jonathan!" She greeted him, and took him into a warm embrace. "Oh, honey, Jonathan's here!"
A similarly greying man emerged from a room behind her, a boyish, attractive smile spreading across his face. No doubt where Luke came from, there.
"Jonathan!" He boomed cheerily. "It's been so long. How've you been? Oh, you've definitely grown a little skinnier than you used to be. I never remembered you being so bony. And you look like you haven't slept in days!"
"Damn it, Pa, you sound like Ma." Luke appeared from behind the couple, completing the picture of uncanny resemblances. "He's fine, I swear. He was singing and dancing around last night. "
"He's right, Mr. Patterson," Jon smiled weakly. "It's just that me and my friends had to make a lot of videos these few days. It's Christmas, after all. Nothing much to worry about."
Luke's father laughed, shaking his head. "You kids and your antics. You're not going to stay long, are you? The drive to your parent's place isn't nice and short if I remember right."
"No, it isn't. I'm just here to hand over some presents, and I'll get going." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small flat blue box tied together with a silver ribbon and offered it to the elderly couple.
"This is for the both of you. But – uh – you might want to open it in private." Jonathan smiled warmly. "It's for the sake of my sanity, really, nothing on the gift. I really hope you two like it."
He watched as the two faces lit up before his own eyes. The woman's eyes glimmered, a soft shimmer rolling across her dark brown eyes, and the man smiled wider than ever, wrinkles forming across his face. Even as he stood in the cold winter, an odd, comforting warmth grew as he watch the older couple glower appreciatively at him.
"Oh, Jonathan, my dear…" Mrs. Patterson murmured. "You didn't need to, you've always been so kind -"
"It's okay, Mrs Patterson, it really is. It's just a small gift. It's nothing as compared to what you two and Luke have been doing for me all these years. You've all been so kind."
The woman nudged her husband gently, whispering, "Give him his gift, dear."
A flurry of colors appeared before Jonathan as Mr Patterson scurried around behind his wife and son in the house, before re-appearing with a bright red box bound with a navy ribbon. "Merry Christmas, son," he beamed as he handed the box over to Jonathan, and he thanked the couple joyfully.
"Okay, enough with this – WHERE'S MY GOD-DAMNED GIFT, JONATHAN?!" Luke yelled impatiently, an eager fire eating away at his soul visible through his dark eyes. The elderly lady slapped his elbow in annoyance.
Jonathan giggled softly. "In my car. You'll love it. Come on," he gestured as Luke followed behind. As they stopped by his vehicle, Jonathan made sure to open the trunk as slowly as he could, dragging out the moment for as long as possible as he took pleasure in watching the man squirm in impatience. Finally, he retrieved the large box he had kept safely hidden from Luke all along, and placed it in the man's arms.
He watched as Luke struggled with the angel and the demon sitting on his shoulders, one spurring him to rip the box open like a child and see what it contained, and the other urging him to be patient and save all the anticipation and excitement for later like a grown man should. When he finally settled down, Jonathan smirked, a laugh turning into a snort as he barely held it back.
"The fuck are you laughin' about?"
"The angel won," Jonathan giggled, and Luke shook his head at the nonsensical response he got.
"Thanks for the gift, anyway."
"No problem. Share it with Hannah, too. It's for you both. And thank her for the sweater for me, okay?"
Luke nodded. "Are you going off already? I haven't given you your gift, yet."
"Yeah. My parents are probably already waiting for me. You can just drop your gift off at my house on your way home later." He closed the car trunk and maneuvered around to the front of the car, and waved at the elderly couple in the distance, and they, understanding, waved back before retreating into back into the house, the door slightly ajar.
"Hey," Luke stopped him, arm firmly grasping his shoulder just as he prepared to re-enter the vehicle. "Be careful, okay? Keep your phone on and with you at any point of time, alright?"
Jonathan frowned. Luke sounded awfully serious. "Why? What's going on?"
"Damn it, are you livin' under a goddamn rock?" Luke growled. "There's been reports of serious gang activity all around North Carolina these days. I just want you to stay safe, alright?"
"Gee, Luke. Look, I'll be fine, okay? North Carolina is pretty big. I'm only just one guy on the road out of so many. Besides, I'm just going to my parents' and back. No deviations." He caught Luke's dark glare, and sighed. "If it makes you feel better, I'll call you when I get home, okay?"
"Okay." Luke answered, still sounding slightly distressed. "I'll see you soon."
Jonathan waved, and began his drive off into the bright white. The drive to his parents' place was often unbearably long, and he had long fell into the routine of flipping through radio channels to and listening to whatever was on to kill the time. Once in a while he would catch unfamiliar voices on unfamiliar radio stations playing songs that he never thought he'd end up liking. Other times, like this time, he these unfamiliar voices would play songs that have had all the likability sapped out of them with the sheer number of times that they had been played and milked for listeners.
"And coming up... is a song that has been so well-liked for so long, and I think it speaks the feelings of so many people out there today. You might be spending Christmas alone, but we'll always be here for you. Here's the song, "You're Beautiful" by James Blunt," the voice came through the radio, nasal and half-hearted.
"Jesus, really? This song?" Jonathan murmured to himself. "How nostalgic."
The first notes of the guitar came through. Ugh. Here we go again. The premature start was all too familiar – "My life is brilliant."
He rolled his eyes, almost completely able to repeat every single syllable of the song from memory after countless times of having the song played to him ever since it hit the top of the charts ten years ago – on the radio, in stores, when Nick serenaded him in quiet when they lay alone in the dark, singing it softly to him with his lips to his ear…
"My life is brilliant, my love is pure / I saw an angel, of that I'm sure…"
A soft sigh escaped his lips. He could already hear Nick's voice in his ear, crooning away at the next few lines.
"She smiled at me on the subway, she was with another man
But I won't lose no sleep on that, 'cause I've got a plan…"
Ethereal lips against his ear, Nick gently whispered the lyrics, his voice full of adoration and sadness.
"You're beautiful, you're beautiful, you're beautiful, it's true…"
I'm not the beautiful one, he thought, his own voice in his mind grating against Nick's gentility. I've met so many more beautiful people. You… Liselle… Evan... Oh, Evan…
The next few lines came through the radio, murmuring mournfully in a high voice, the very lines he dreaded to hear in that very moment as he drove with his mind lingering on Evan and the very last time he saw him back in California.
"I saw your face in a crowded place… And I don't know what to do, 'cause I'll never be with you."
Oh, Evan.
As he pulled up in another snowy driveway by another house, he was greeted once more by familiar faces. This time, however, his surroundings were not as serene nor as quiet, and this time, his heart was heavy and full. It took him a full moment to regain himself and compose himself, before nailing a wholehearted smile to his face, clouding his thoughts of Evan with the thoughts of his family awaiting him in the house.
"Uncle Jonathan! UNCLE JONATHAN!"
A small bundle of joy came bounding towards him as he stepped up onto the porch with a paper bag, all dressed in red and white, jumping and pouncing onto him excitedly. Her long dark hair was soft and prominent against her pale skin and greyish-blue eyes, and her full red lips were curled into a bright, wide smile.
"Uncle Jonathan!" She chirped once more, hugging his thigh tightly. "Mommy! Grandpa, Grandma! Uncle Jonathan is here!"
Loud shuffling came from within the house as familiar faces began to peek out. An elderly couple resembling him in countless ways smiled as they approached him, and a woman with dark hair and pale skin trailed behind them, a small contented smile upon her face.
"Oh, Jonathan... long time no see," his mother addressed him, pulling him into a tight embrace. "You've lost weight again!"
"Why does everyone else say that? I'm perfectly fine, Ma."
"Look," She pulled out his arm from his sides. "You're so bony now! You used to have more flesh on your bones."
"Give the boy a rest," his father cut in. "Just look at him, he looks like he hasn't slept in days. I won't be surprised if he's been sick again."
"Not you too, Pa."
"You've got to take care of yourself, dear boy," the man murmured in his deep voice as he took Jonathan into a warm hug. "You get sick so often, it's hard not to get people worried."
"It's not that frequent, Dad. I swear. Other than the occasional throat problems, I'm healthy as a horse."
"That's good to hear. Your mom's right, though, you've really lost weight."
"Geez, you two…" Jonathan breathed, half-laughing. "I'll end up gaining it all back today! It smells really good in here, already. Are you guys already roasting the turkey?"
"It's actually nearly done. We're having dinner much earlier so none of you have to go home too late. The gang activity isn't any joke."
"Still, Ma," The dark-haired woman behind them both spoke up. "You've started way too early. Evening's light years away. Besides, there's no reason to cut Gina's Christmas extra short. We all only get Christmas once a year, you know."
"Yeah, Grandma," Gina piped up, her voice high. "I barely ever get to see Uncle Jonathan the rest of the year. I wanna spend more time with him."
She flashed an irresistibly adorable smile at all of the grown-ups in the room, and Jonathan knelt down, lowering his head to her height.
"Gina's a good girl, so I think I wasn't wrong to get you a nice gift for Christmas this year. But you have to promise to be good and listen to your mommy and stay safe tonight, okay? Even if it means seeing Uncle Jonathan for a little bit less today."
Gina nodded understandingly, and Jonathan smiled warmly at the child, before reaching into the paper bag and pulling out a relatively small, elongated box. "Here – promise me you won't spend all your time on it, okay? Your mommy will be angry at me if you don't do well in school, and you won't look pretty anymore if you have to wear glasses."
The girl's eyes widened as she soon realized what lay in the box, and she threw her arms around his neck happily, squealing in delight.
"Oh – THANK YOU UNCLE JONATHAN, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU – I'VE ALWAYS WANTED -!"
"Alright, alright, settle down," Jenn mumbled, hands pulling the two apart. "Really, Jonathan, a handheld game system? I'm going to have such a rough time ripping those out of her hands now."
"It's Christmas, Jenn. It makes Gina happy, so why not?" The elderly lady coaxed. "Come now, Gina, show Grandpa and Grandma your present and let your mommy catch up with Uncle Jonathan, okay?"
The couple walked off up the stairs, each clasping one of Gina's small dainty hands in theirs, leaving Jenn and Jonathan alone with each other. Barely looking at her, Jonathan moved past her into the kitchen, where a strong, nutty scent was emanating from the oven as the turkey roasted in the orange light.
"Gina takes after you so much, it's not even funny anymore," Jenn began as she strolled in after him. "Just a few years ago it was Uncle Jonathan this and Uncle Jonathan that, and now she's beginning to actually starting to be like you when you were younger."
"Really?" Jonathan replied, his eyes fixated on the bird in the oven. "She seems perfectly fine to me."
"Tch. She's all weird now like you were. She's all noisy, energetic and boisterous… and so unafraid to be herself. Seriously, I think she's becoming more and more like you every day. I'm going to end up raising a mini-Jonathan."
"You say it like it's something bad."
"I've had to grow up with you, and now I'm going to have to grow old with another version of you. And it doesn't help that you're one of the craziest, most special people that I know. One of these days I'm going to go insane." She rolled her eyes at him, and continued, "But enough about me, and more about you. You're acting weird. You don't even want to look at me in the eye and if you think that after all these years I can't tell what that means, you're dead wrong. You're hiding something."
Jonathan sighed softly. "It's none of your business."
"Oh yeah?" Jenn challenged bluntly. "You're acting like how you did after Nick dumped you."
Jonathan winced, and Jenn continued, smirking triumphantly. "After all that crying and acting like the world ended, you're now in your 'I'm totally alright' phase. You've lost weight, you've barely slept, and whenever you do, you either have weird dreams of whoever it is or you just have nightmares straight up. Am I right?"
Bulls-eye.
"How are you always spot-on?"
"Because I'm your sister. And even more so because I'm a mother. So 'fess up, I wanna hear it. It's another boy, isn't it? Did he dump you?"
"He –" Jonathan began sharply, his voice high and loud. He took a second to reset, lowering his voice to conversational levels. "He didn't. We didn't even get together. He doesn't even know how I feel."
"But you fell for him anyway. And you found out you can't be with him."
"He's getting married, Jenn. He loves her. She's everything he wants and more. I'm nothing more than just a friend to him, a friend that plays games with him and works with him."
"Sheesh, you're such a downer." Jenn walked over to the fridge and rummaged through it, before turning around and chucking a bottle of orange juice at him as though what she had heard was immensely trivial. "So he's engaged. What next? He might get married, get tired of that jazz, and then leave her for you. Or even better, he might just break off the engagement for you. It's not like you'll never get a chance at having him ever again."
"Jenn!" Jonathan scolded in disbelief. "How could you say that? That's his happiness at stake here! I can't break them up –"
"I'm not telling you to break them up. I'm just telling you that it's not the end between you two. God, anything can happen. He might leave her, she might leave him. And then he's all yours. Simple as that. It's not the end of the world, there's absolutely nothing to be sad about."
"You're evil." Jonathan accused. "My dear sister has become an evil bitch."
Jenn waved him off. "Say what you want, bitch, but if there's anything I learnt out of all these years raising Gina on my own, it's that I can't be good or even pretend to be good. If I've gotta be evil to get what I want or need, then I'm going to be evil. He's what you want, and I'm going to bet my life and my daughter's life that he wants you, too."
"He doesn't. I'm sure of it."
"You don't even sound sure. Come on, Jonathan. You have no idea how responsive you are to people. It's Nick and that girl Liselle all over again – you like them, find them hot, they flirt because they like you back, and you practically fall head over heels for them. I'm willing to go out on a limb here and say he's flirted with you at some point, and that he likes you more than just as a friend. Deny that all you want, but it's happened before."
"Even if he does want me, even if he does love me, he still won't break up with her just to be with me. She's perfect for him. She's the perfection that he's looking for, the whole love-of-his-life, wife and children package deal. He'll never break her, let alone break up with her."
"Oh, shut up. Do you think I care? My point is that this is so damned unlike you, Jonathan. You've never given up so easily before. Everything you do, you fight it through the end, no matter how hard it is or how small the window of opportunity is. God, Gina picked that up from you, and now you're losing it." She paused, and smiled wistfully, the corners of her lips curving ever so gently and forming dimples that were ever so familiar to him. "Do you know what she said to me once? She was at the bottom of the class, and she was being picked on by other kids. And one night after I yelled at her for god knows what, she just looked at me and told me I was wrong and she'd make it to the top. She said, "If Uncle Jonathan can make everything bad good, then I can, too." And god, she's getting there. She's been working so hard at it - so at the very least, be a good example for Gina. Do it for her – show her you're not one to give up."
The pair were quiet for a long moment, with Jonathan sipping his orange juice thoughtfully and Jenn watching the Christmas turkey cook away slowly in the oven.
A small little ding sounded and the lights in the oven dimmed, prompting Jonathan and Jenn to spring into action, with him wrapping the oven mitts over his hands and her looking for a large plate to rest the turkey on. As they worked fluidly over the food, Jenn began the conversation again.
"Jonathan?" Jenn mumbled as she began to pick the stuffing out from the turkey. "Look, I hate being so annoying and noisy about all this and saying so much that I probably don't need to. It's something you learn from being all alone – you figure things out for yourself and you fight and reason for yourself. But you're not alone, Jonathan. You have me. You have people like Luke. I mean, shit, he's not the best person to set an example for you, but he's a hell of a reliable person. Thing is, there are so many people who love you for who you are. So talk about it if you have to. Don't wait until everyone's gone before you start talking."
Jonathan hesitated, and finally spoke. "I didn't tell you this earlier, but I think I've mentioned him to you before. It's that guy I messaged years back and eventually became friends with. His name is Evan."
"Do you love him? God, it's obvious, but I need you to be honest with yourself. Do you?"
"I do. So much… so much that it's painful. I can't bear to know that he might be sad or hurt, yet I can't bear to know that I can't be with him. These past few weeks… it hurts so much thinking about him. I'd dream of him so much. Sometimes it's a nice dream, so nice that it sucks when I wake up knowing that it's not real. Other times it's just… sad."
Jenn nodded slowly. "How did it happen? He was just your friend before – how did he become more to you?"
Jonathan stilled his hands. "Last month when I went to L.A. with Luke… we saw each other in person for the first time. God, he was already beautiful before in pictures. In person… he's completely perfect. I can't look at him without thinking about how absolutely perfect he is."
Jenn cupped his hands with her own. "I do hope for your sake and Gina's sake that you get him… eventually. Gina needs another uncle, you know."
Jonathan snorted in mirth. "I used to use the word 'eventually' so much. To think that it's the most painful word I can hear now. There's no closure in it – it's just a waiting game, no yes's or no's. It just leaves you hanging there wondering when it will ever happen, if it's ever going to happen… and you're just hurting knowing that it might not ever happen."
"It will, Jonathan. Trust a woman's instinct – a mom's instinct. Trust me on this one."
"Jenn, Jonathan darling?" Their mother cut in, peeking through the doorway. "I'll handle it from here. Go spend some time with Gina and your father. I don't think games are enough to entertain those two silly ones."
Hours later, the family sat around the dining table, the air filled with remnants of the scent of a hearty and wonderful Christmas dinner. The adults had pushed their chairs up away from the table, a satisfied sigh escaping their lips as they rubbed their full stomachs, temporarily unable to move after a sumptuous meal. Plates lay empty in front of them, with little scraps of leftovers on the larger plates and bowls. Gina, on the other hand, had completely abandoned her spot at the table, and had sidled up to Jonathan, settling herself on his lap playfully.
"Ow, you've definitely grown bigger, Gina," Jonathan complained, wincing slightly as Gina shifted her weight on his lap. "One day, I probably can't even carry you anymore."
"Then get another uncle or another aunty to help you carry me," Gina pouted. "Even better, get a strong uncle or aunty that has a softer lap."
Jonathan shot a momentary glare at Jenn, before turning back to Gina. "Did your mommy tell you to say this to me?"
"Mommy only said you haven't found 'the right one', but when are you going to find 'the right one'? When am I going to have a little cousin to play with?"
Looks were exchanged throughout the table, and Jenn cleared her throat, looking away from Jonathan and Gina.
"It's alright, Gina dear. I'm sure your uncle will find the right person soon," the deep voice of their father cut in. "Now, do you want some ice cream? Grandma and I made sure to buy some little chocolate ice-cream balls just for you! Come on!"
He stood up, towering over the table, and gestured for Gina to follow him into the kitchen. Reluctantly, Gina slid away from Jonathan and trailed behind the man.
"You overheard,"Jenn accused as soon as Gina was out of earshot.
"I had to check on the turkey," their mother shrugged. "Besides, I deserve to know a little bit of what's going on in both of your lives. There's a boy named Evan?"
Jonathan sighed, exasperated. "It's not going to happen, Ma."
"I'm haven't said anything yet. I'm not pressing for you to get married, although if you do, your father and I will be extremely happy," she replied matter-of-factly. "I'm not even objecting to anything here. We never told you this when you were dating that Nick boy in secret –"
"You knew about Nick!?" Jonathan suppressed a yell.
"I told them. Luke and I thought that it was the best thing to do after you got hurt," Jenn confessed. "What are you going to do, come out to them about your preferences but not tell them the full story behind it? They had to know at some point."
"Don't interrupt, Jenn. We never told you this when you were dating Nick in secret, or when you told us that you – in your own words – swung both ways, but no matter which way you choose to go, we'd still love you, and love who you choose to love. So – oh, for god's sake, Jenn, stop looking at me like that – I don't care what's going on between you two, but if he makes you happy, chase him with all you've got, okay?"
"Ma…Oh gosh," Jonathan choked out, his voice coming out in a soft, pitiful whimper. His chest clenched warmly, filling with a pleasant ache, and he began to tear up slightly. His mother raised herself from her seat and embraced him, gently stroking his hair.
"Now, now, dear. It's Christmas, and you're a big boy now. So don't cry because you've heard something nice." She pulled back, and wiped away a tear as it barely began its journey down his cheeks. "Smile now. Come on."
Jonathan smiled almost too easily through the blurriness of his tears. "Thank you, Ma. I love you. You and Pa have always been so loving… I wouldn't be who I am without you two."
"Geez, this is annoying to watch." Jenn rolled her eyes.
"And you too, Jenn," he reached out to her, inviting her to an embrace that she gladly joined. The sensation of having his family around him holding him tightly was immensely heartwarming, and the heavy burden on his shoulders that had weighed him down ever since he left California seemed to lift itself. It was almost as though Jenn and his parents and Gina were there, sharing his burden, and he was grateful beyond words for that.
"Aw, Grandpa," Gina's voice rang through the air, causing the trio to break apart. "They're having a group hug without us."
"It's alright, it's alright. We don't need to be actually hugged to know that they love us, too. Either way," he peered out of the window, "It's getting dark. You've all got to start heading out, now."
"Well, we'll get going, then." Jenn straightened up and proceeded to retrieve her bag and her coat from the stands. "Come on, Gina. Put your coat on and we'll get going before the baddies catch us."
"Bye, Grandpa, Grandma. Bye, Uncle Jonathan… Come and see me soon, please? I want to play games with you and hear more stories from you."
Jonathan smiled, bending down to give her a small tight hug. "I'll try to come over whenever I can, okay? Be a good girl now and go home safely."
He waved at the two ladies leaving, and with two loud thumps and the sound of an engine starting and car wheels screeching as it drove off, his sister and his niece disappeared into the darkness.
"You should get going, too. Stay safe on the road, okay?"
"I will, Dad." Jonathan gave both his parents a quick hug, and took his coat from the coat rack, wrapping the warm fabric around his body as he stepped out into the cold night. "You two take care, alright? I'll drop by when I have the time."
"We will, we will. Now go on home, dear."
They parted, with the couple retreating back into the house and Jonathan into the warmth of his car, as he began the journey back home, his stomach full and his spirits lifted.
The drive back home was relatively dull. Christmas carols and ballads filled the radio stations, and the road ahead was immensely dark, prompting Jonathan to drive through the area purely by memory alone as the signs proved unhelpful. His memory itself was hazy, and a part of him strongly doubted that he was going the right way.
It was not long before a sign was visible to him, the words on it catching his eyes and sending him into panic mode. The road was already unfamiliar, and his surroundings seemed alien. Run-down, industrial-looking buildings surrounded him as he drove on, completely lost. Where the hell am I? Did I take a wrong turn somewhere?
He looked around for a sign, confused. He had never wandered into this part of the state before, let alone know the way around. He was barely sure if he was still in North Carolina. What if I somehow travelled out of the state? How many signs did I miss? How many wrong turns did I take? Where in the world am I?
He began to slow down to assess the situation and his environment, before pulling over to a stop. There was not a single sign in sight. Everything was quiet, deadly quiet. The air in the car became colder than it was before, and a prickling feeling started to crawl all over his skin. He was lost – and lost in a place where he had a terrible feeling about. The countless industrial buildings and run-down shacks around him were splattered with graffiti – and it became clear that this was a place that he had been warned since he was very young to avoid. This was gang territory, and he had to find a way out as soon as he could. He pulled out his phone, ready to turn on the maps to look for a way out.
His panic rose as he heard faint screeches of car tires in the distance. He silently hoped that it was but another lost traveler and not anyone from a gang. Or, even better, it might be someone just passing through who has directions. Gosh, Jonathan, stop worrying yourself.
Ending his worries, however, was easier said than done. As luck would have it, a momentary blinding flash across the side of his face announced the presence of a car. The car passed him relatively quickly, and he was relieved for a split-second, until it began to slow down to a stop a distance ahead of him. Shit. Please don't come to me, please don't come to me…
A group of men exited the car, one after another, as the red lights on the rear of the car died. His heart began to race as they walked towards his car. I need to get out, I need to drive away now!
His hand shot towards the gear, but as he looked away and back at the men, he realized it was too late. In the few moments that he had looked away, they seemed to have travelled quickly towards him, and were beginning to close in on him. Fear was beginning to take hold of his body, and he froze, not knowing what to do.
Luke's voice echoed in his head. "Keep your phone on and with you at any point of time, okay?"
My phone. He fumbled quickly with his phone, swiping around as he glanced back and forth between the men and the keypad that had appeared on his phone screen. In between glances he caught glimpses of the men – tattoos sprinkled themselves across the mean-looking features on their faces and across their necks. Their expressions spelt a mixture of inebriation and sheer anger and hatred. Most striking of all, however, was the man leading the pack. The face was familiar, stirring up a lagoon of bad memories that Jonathan had kept buried within him. He had hoped to never see the man's face again after he caught a glimpse of a piercing, hate-filled glare that the man gave him as he was led away, restrained, many years ago. Eric.
A scream caught itself in Jonathan's throat, suppressed only by his willpower. He quickly dialed a number that he had hoped to never use in his lifetime, a number that he hoped would save his life – that is, if the operator understood the incomprehensible events that was about to follow. As he heard the dial tone, he quickly stuffed his phone into the inner pocket of his coat, his heart palpitating under the countless layers of fabric as the men closed in on him.
SMASH.
A shower of glass rained upon the passenger seat of his car as a wooden bat met its surface. Oh, god. Save me.
"Well, well, well…" A deep rumble emerged from Eric's chest, his thin, cracked lips barely moving as he spoke. "If it isn't a familiar face. I thought I'd never see this face again when I went in, and I never thought I'd see this face again when I came out. But what do we have here? My perfect Christmas gift, just for me." His features contorted into a deadly grimace. "So how have you been, Johnny?"
"Eric… I just… please, I'm just passing through." Jonathan whispered, his voice shaking.
"Passin' through? Just passin' through?" Eric mocked, the men roaring with laughter. "Johnny boy, if there's one thing you learn, you don't just "pass through" with us. You're my Christmas gift, Johnny. Do you know what's happened to me all these years? You sent me to prison, and Nick left me. He left me to fend for myself, after all I've done for him to protect him! You have no idea how much I want to return the favor, Johnny."
He chuckled darkly to himself, and rounded over to the driver's seat, smashing the window in as well, sending fragments of the glass flying past Jonathan, scratching away at his skin. "You're in for a treat, Johnny. I'm in a really good mood tonight… so why not come out and party, Johnny?"
In a swift motion, he reached in through the broken glass and forcefully unlocked and pulled the door open. Countless hands grabbed Jonathan, forcing him out of the car and onto the cold road as he protested furiously, kicking and struggling as he screamed at the top of his lungs until his voice was hoarse and his throat burned. With each scream, the sadistic smile on Eric's face grew, and finally, he watched the man raise a thick arm and wave it across his face, slapping him hard ruthlessly. All Jonathan felt in the moment was a rough palm to his face, and an immense pain burn across his left cheek.
"You know, I was wonderin' how you got to be the good guy. I was tryin' to protect my brother. I was tryin' to save him and make him see how wrong he was. But I was the big, bad guy, Johnny. Why?"
He felt the arms restraining him loosen slightly as Eric made a swift motion with his body, throwing Jonathan to the freezing ground face-down. A heavy foot gently settled itself across his lower back, where the dreaded burn marks were –
"I warned you to not get close to Nick. I warned you, again and again. And you still got close to him, and you still stuck to him like a leech. So I gave you a better warning." The pressure on his back grew. "You still have 'em, don't you, Johnny? Remember how you shivered like a leaf when you were on the ground just like you are today? Boy, I didn't think you were that weak, but you were. A couple of smacks and you were down. A few cigarettes in and you passed out." Eric chuckled again, the humor in his voice full of venom.
"And here we are today. I haven't even hit you yet, and you're on the ground like a piece of dog shit. I'm not goin' to go easy on you just because you're shit, though. I'm never gonna go easy on you until we're through, Johnny. Is that clear? I SAID, IS THAT CLEAR?"
Jonathan kept his lips sealed, his throat no longer able to produce a single comprehensible sound. Please, save me.
He felt a hand on his back, and a growl commanding him to get up as the hand yanked him by the collar into a kneeling position. Eric stood in front of him, a towering figure armed with a wooden baseball bat. A lethal hatred boiled in his eyes as he played with the bat, examining it closely. It became evident to Jonathan that Eric was in an extremely dangerous mood – he meant to kill.
"I'm gonna hit you until you scream, Johnny. I'm gonna make sure every bone in your body breaks, and every bit of you hate your life from here on." Eric threatened, his voice a harsh whisper. "You've made my life hell for ten goddamn years. It's time you paid up for everythin' you've done."
Eric raised the bat and swung away, sending the bat flying through the air and meeting Jonathan's left thigh with a loud thud.
He thought he could scream no more, but the first blow sent a shockwave through his bones and every nerve in his body. The pain was excruciating, as though Eric had stabbed straight through the bone in his thigh from the inside. He cried out in pain, his voice breaking at every edge as tears began to form in his eyes. His knees buckled slightly, and he swayed on the spot in an instinctive measure to not put weight on his left leg.
Eric smirked, a disgusting expression of pleasure forming across his face. "I'm just getting' started, Johnny. I've gotta say, it's so satisfyin' hearing you scream, knowin' you feel what I've felt for so long. But what do you say, boys," He looked around at the other men, "if I tell you to give him hell?"
Laughter surrounded him as the men began to close in on him. I'm going to die, Jonathan thought to himself weakly.
A fist soon met his face, knuckles cracking against his nose and lips, sending hot, thick fluid running down his nose and down his mouth. Even before he had time to recover from the agony, a knee met his forehead, with Eric bludegoning his left arm with the bat. More screams filled the air, and Jonathan fell to the ground once more, no longer strong enough to keep himself up. A small part of his consciousness was made aware of how wet and cold his face was against the ground, with tears and blood mixed with wet snow against his face. His body burned furiously and a continuous throbbing centered itself mercilessly in his limbs, constantly reminding him of the blows that he was receiving from Eric and his gang.
"Merry Christmas, Johnny," Eric yelled, as he lowered the bat into Jonathan's right arm with a resounding smack, sending more tears pouring out of his eyes and a weak whimper to escape his lips. The pain, however, was far less, as his body was becoming numb to the attacks. His mind was increasingly hazy with each blow to the head that he got.
He had lost track of time. He did not know how long the beatings went on for, or where he was hit. His body hurt all the same, and all he knew was that at a certain point of time, the sounds of fists, feet, knees and bats meeting his body ended, giving way to a loud commotion amongst the men as they left him lying in the middle of a snowy road. With the last of his energy, he turned his head ever so slightly to see bright lights flashing in the distance, a continual exchange of red and blue. Thank you, he murmured silently in his head as he began to make out figures rushing at him in the dark – some in dark clothing and others in light blue. The colors blurred in his eyes as the weakness in his body took over, fading into a solid, still black.
I'm sorry for the long wait! I'm even more sorry if the coming chapters also do take some time, but I'll try to push them out efficiently!
I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
-delmin