December 25, 2023.

Who knows, maybe this Christmas will be the one where things are different.

I'm scrolling endlessly again, ignoring the nagging voice in my head reminding me about the 99 tasks I have unfinished. 

A typical day in the life of a 21-year old trying hard to make a name for herself but never living up to her potential.

My scrolling comes to an end when I see your newest music video. You're seated in your usual spot, with a confident smile on your face as you open your mouth to sing.

Even before I hear the tunes, I hit the like button. A secret smile only the heavens can see crosses my face.

In the comments section there are over a 100 comments, but I feel confident adding mine because in the three years I've known you, you always respond to mine.

In the beginning of our online friendship, I had expected nothing when I slid into your DM with a simple ‘Hi’ after watching you silently for a little while.

But you gave me something that became everything.

A reply.

We exchange festive greetings before we voice chat as usual, and you tell me how you're spending Christmas with your family. 

You mention how it'd be nice for us to find some time to meet next year. 

My heart soars.

Maybe…this isn't all in my head and is truly something more.

You ask me how my own Christmas is going. I say mine is going well, even though it really isn't. In fact, it's why I'm locked away in my room instead of joining the rest of my family downstairs as they eat and make merry.

Almost as though I don't exist.

I want to tell you, but there are some things we never want to share with others. I also don't want to ruin the mood because there's a realization I've come to. 

Something that must be said before I suffocate. Three little truthful words that can set me free.

Before I can tell you over the call though, you tell me that something urgent that you have to attend to has come up, and you end the call after a quick promise to call later.

You don't, though.

+ + +

December 25, 2024.

Okay, this is the day I'll tell you how I feel. This Christmas is the one where things change.

Things went further in our friendship. Not in serious, world-changing ways, but in little things.

Like the endearments you start your greetings with. 

My dear. My love. My angel. Simple flat words in reality, but from you they have a depth that fills me with excitement.

We even got to meet in person for the first time in August. 

I had been so nervous meeting you, because I feared that maybe you'd finally see me in person and realise that there wasn't much to me.

I had melted when you gave me the warmest hug I'd ever received instead.

We’re meeting again today, and I think it's perfect because a year ago, I couldn't tell you what I really needed to. This day is perfect because it'll be a perfect end to a ridiculously bad year.

If I can win at this one thing I want to do, then all my losses won't even matter anymore. My constantly angry father and silent mother and absent siblings won't matter anymore.

I sit patiently by the park’s entrance, searching the passing faces until I find yours. 

Even as you make your way down, every once in a while you stop and politely wave at someone who seems to recognise you from IG. You have over 40,000 followers now so it's to be expected.

I'm not jealous because I know you're here because of me.

I rise so that you can find me easily, and your eyes meet mine. Your steps quicken, and you stretch out your arms towards me as you draw near. Calling me in for a hug.

I take a step, reaching to close the gap—

A girl who looks around my age intercepts you, wrapping her arms around you like you're shawarma and she's aluminium foil.

My whole body locks up like a failed machine.

I expect you to quickly pull away from her because obviously she's just a fan, right? 

You don't. Instead, your arms pull her even closer.

When you eventually make your way to where I stand, you give me a quick side-hug and say to her, “Cynthia, this is Eve.”

Cynthia looks at me with a wide innocent smile, and I swallow all the pretty words I had packaged for you.

I crumple up my already bared heart like paper and throw it in a trash bin in the pit of my belly.

+ + +

December 25, 2025.

This Christmas, things have changed, and not in the way I expected. You are not here in the way I hoped you would.

You've dropped a Christmas video on IG like you have done years before, and I click on it before my brain fully processes the act.

You're singing and playing your bass. Your fingers deftly move across the strings, and you cast a knowing smile to the camera. You've cut your afro and now sport a buzz-cut that does nice things for your already perfect face.

“It's Christmas, and I wish you were here . . .” you start to sing, and as you go on, I take note of something.

The background of the video looks very familiar. Too familiar. A signpost behind you has the same sign I pass by almost every day.

It can't be, can it?

I rush outside, my heart beating in my chest at the wild hope that maybe I've been wrong for the past 12 months. That maybe you've come to your senses and picked up the same tune my heart has been singing for years.

That maybe there's still a little hope for me.

I walk down the street, following the sound of your music. My eyes are hot with tears that refuse to fall as I find your form leaning against a wall, surrounded by people listening to you play.

You turn, and you look at me, smiling like this has been your plan all along. 

You finish up your performance and slip free from the crowd to walk up to me. In your eyes are stars I can't touch but feel.

“Hm, what are you doing here?” I ask as we walk down a street where there are less people. I know that you came for me, but I'm not going to make you feel too comfortable.

After what happened last year, things were weird for me for a short while, but I never could bring myself to ask directly about Cynthia, even if she was a frequent feature in your IG stories and even a few posts.

I kept hope in my heart that things would change, and now here you are. You must have finally come to your senses and are ready to tell me how you feel too.

You sling your bass guitar case over your shoulder effortlessly, I like the way your body moves with it. Almost like it's an extension of you. You're tall, and my head stops at your chest. The perfect ratio for couple snuggles.

“I wanted to make this Christmas special.” You get a little serious. “I wanted this one to be about us, and nothing else.”

Heat rises in my belly and flows into my heart. I struggle to find words, but you aren't done talking yet.

“After all, what's a Christmas without friends, you know?”

Friends. The word slaps me like ice.

“Friends?” I say, allowing that single word to hold my confusion. The happiness I had felt moments ago slips away. 

You nod innocently. “Yes. Why do you say it like that? Aren't you my friend?” You chuckle. 

“Just your friend?” I ask, my heart rate speeding up.

You pause, like you're unsure of what to say. “Is there supposed to be something else?” The air turns a little tense.

Everything blurs.

“What's wrong, Eve? You're acting strange. Did I say something wrong?” You reach for me, and almost like a provocation, your hand chooses to rest on my cheek. “Why are you crying?”

“I am just your friend, David?” My voice sounds ugly, but I don't care. “Just your friend?”

Feliz Navidad pops up in a shop nearby, playing loudly.

“I don't understand…” you say gently, a small frown marring your face. My eyes drop to your mouth, and in a desperate attempt I grab your neck and pull your face closer, not caring that we're by a street where cars are actively driving past.

Fine. I will help you see clearly.

You pull away before we can connect. “What are you doing?”

Shame, guilt, anger, and countless other emotions swirl on the inside of me with such a ferocity that all I can think to do is get away from you. 

Maybe if I run fast enough, I'll wake up from this nightmare.

Why can't I ever get what I want?

“I…” I don't know what else to say. So I twist out of your reach and try to cross the road to escape from your disgusted gaze.

I need to get away. This must be all in my head. It can't be true...

A powerful horn blares as I cross, startling me so hard that I freeze at the centre of the road. 

You shout my name, but it sounds so distant as I see a car rushing towards me with an unbreakable speed. The driver's face is a picture of shock as he holds a phone in his hand.

"Eve!"

Maybe this is the Christmas I—

The car crashes into me, and milliseconds later, I'm floating. The world spins and there is unified screaming coming from everywhere.

Darkness hits me before the ground does…

The end.