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The young couple by the entrance turned back briefly with beaming faces, waving their mittens to a hearty farewell.

Any other day, and that would have been the last of our interaction as per service procedure... but today... I felt a hard nudge from my behind.

My smile twitched.

“And be sure to have a Merry Christmas!”

Too late. Those customers had already long gone, doomed forever now to a despair-ridden fate without my best wishes to accompany them in their life.

Truly... what a tragedy.

.....

How could I’ve ever let this happen? I’m a failure of a cafe barista! Oh, to all the valiant customer service workers of the world – I’ve let you down.

I could feel the piercing glare of disappointment behind me tingling through my spine, then an audible sigh, reminding me of my failure one last time... y’know, just adding that extra bit of salt there.

“That’s your fifth,” came the inevitable gruff growl of disapproval. “Don’t go for a sixth.”

I slid the cash register close, its click-shut chime synonymous with the sullen sound of my breaking heart.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Nick, sir,” I said, as always, with my widest smile. “Won’t happen again.”

Satisfied, Nick grunted himself back into his office, jingling and jangling bells in his merry festive boots all the way.

I’m lucky to have such a strict boss. Truly, what a di... diligent leader Nick was. Indeed.

“Ain’t even Christmas yet,” I muttered under my breath. “Doesn’t make any sense...”

None of this does, honestly. This is a fantasy cafe – why are we celebrating the festivities of reality? Why did I have to plaster reindeers and sleighs on the walls? Why the small pine tree beside the register that I’ve nearly knocked over a dozen times? Why do I have to wear this itchy red costume? And most importantly – why is Nick Santa Claus?

Yeah, Nick, playing the titular Santa Man himself...that’s right, all that muscle and brawn fitted in that signature wooly red, can’t forget the pristine friendly white beard either.

Apparently, Mr. Claus has been hitting the gym hard this past year.

Meanwhile, his sister, in thigh-high leggings, and in a more provocative style of wooly red, was merrily skipping about the establishment introducing herself to me just as I clocked in, as the lovely, wholesome Mrs. Claus herself.

Which really brings about some seriously unsettling implications here if they’re both seriously keeping with those honorifics.

I tried not to think about it, and instead complimented her style. She smiled.

“Oh, don’t you worry yourself, you handsome red man,” suddenly chimed a nearby patron, reaching her hand over the counter towards me. “I’m more than happy to be your sixth... then you can show your boss just how diligent you are about company policy.”

But right before her fingers touched mine, I pulled my arm away... much to her dismay.

“No fraternizing while on duty,” I said to her dull hazel stare. “As per company policy.”

Amanda slumped back against her stool, arms crossed, with a small lipstick-ed pout poking just right above her wooly scarf.

“Boo...”

Before I knew it, two weeks had already passed since I returned to city life.

Coming back... it was a rush to the senses. For some reason, I was expecting change, that our day-to-day was no longer the same.

But it took only until waking up the next morning to realize that everything remained as is. We all went about our days, as if the incident from before was merely just a nightmare already forgotten.

Except, I guess there were some exceptions. Ash had become more open, less reserved, no longer stumbling over her words to express her true emotions. Of course, she was still the same Elf, the same dutiful Knight from day one, chapter one, except now if she wanted to hold my hand, she wouldn’t think – she’d just hold my hand. End of story.

It’s lovely.

Adalia, meanwhile... has remained her usual distant, detached self, much to my surprise.

After all that’s happened, I figured the feelings of affection and intimacy were no longer unfamiliar to her.

Apparently, I stand corrected.

Still, it wasn’t as if we were complete strangers to each other. I could tell from her eyes, in the soft milky waves of her gaze, whenever I spoke to her, or even just passing her by as I wandered down to the kitchen for a late midnight snack – there was a deep fondness swirling about. Maybe one day again, that fondness would surface through the murky depths.

In the meantime though...

“Can I possibly get you anything else?”

Amanda huddled closer forward again, “Why, are you on the menu?” She asked with a wide smile perched over her depleted cup of coffee. “If so, can I take it to go?”

“Oh, that’s reserved, unfortunately,” I said, wiping spills and stains atop the countertop. “Been in pretty high demand as of late.”

“Mmm, I’m willing to wait,” She eagerly replied. “I’m sure it’ll be more than worth it in the end.”

“Alright, I’ll see if I can squeeze you on the list then.”

“You do that.”

All the while we’ve been talking, I’ve actually already prepped another steaming hot serving for her, served exactly as she preferred – foams in heart and made with an extra dose of love.

On a platter, I put it before her, which she promptly lifted up, breathing in the fumes, before taking a sip. She lowered the cup – a delighted expression.

Another satisfied customer.

“Ahh, in all seriousness, though,” Amanda said, putting her order aside. “The day of the shooting is fast approaching. Have you read the copy of the script I sent you yet? Not the first one, the one with your parts only. Read it?”

Through the running and splashing sounds of me washing my hands, I said, “Yeah, of course.”

“All of it?”

“Yeah.”

“Memorized it?”

“You mean all twenty-one pages worth of just my lines?” I asked. “Would you be surprised if I said no?”

Amanda looked at me with a squint. “For some reason, I don’t like how you said that...”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you just need an extra?”

“Well...” She shrugged. “Rewrites happen, you know?”

“And now somehow I’m playing a pivotal role?” I asked, restraining my eyeballs from going a full 180. “Who the hell is Chester the Suave, and why am I playing him?”

“Oh, Chester’s an original character that I... that the director and I came up with at the last minute,” Amanda explained. “We thought maybe a new character like this would enhance the story. As for why you got the role, well... you came highly recommended.”

I furrowed my brow. “By who?”

“By an anonymous source that sternly wishes to remain sternly anonymous,” She batted her eyes. “Okay if we just leave it at that?”

Then before I could poke and probe any further, she clasped her mitts together, muttering quite firmly, “Moving on – there’s also another issue we need to discuss.”

“Do we now?”

“Oh-ho, yes we do, indeed” She nodded wide-eyed. “At once too.”

The way she built it, spoke it, it really did sound like a pressing matter... so much so that I even stopped what I was doing to focus on her.

“I’m listening...”

“Okay...” Amanda cleared her throat, her elbows on the counter, and her chin prop beneath her fingers. “I’ve been a very good girlfriend to you, haven’t I?”

The hell is this...

“Patient enough? Understanding enough? Loving? Caring?” She continued on, waiting any moment for my answer. “I like to think that I am. I hope that I am,” briefly, a look of concern flashed on her face. “Am I?”

“You are,” I immediately assured her. “Loving, patient, understanding... so much more. You’re simply the best.”

“G-Good, good... thank you,” She said, both delighted and relieved. “Anyway, right... so since you think that, it stands to reason that you also enjoy my company right?”

“Umm...” What are these questions even. “Yeah, guess I do.”

“Love it, even?”

Seriously, what are these questions?

“Yes...”

“Super!” She squealed, nearly springing off of her stool over the counter as she clasped both her mittens around my hand. “So, you like me, right?”

“We’ve kissed, Amanda. Do you, like, need a reminder?” I asked, then quickly seeing a twinkling in her eyes, hurriedly replied. “Not literally. Don’t even.”

That twinkling vanished. “Boo...” but her bizarre interrogation continued. “What day is today?”

“Tuesday.”

She nodded me on. “What’s a week from now?”

“Depends. You mean like exactly seven days or – ”

“I’ll rephrase – what important happens in a week from now?”

.....

That’s when it clicked, and that’s when I finally realized... and that’s also when she realized that I’ve finally realized.

And she showed her sweetest smile as she slowly drew closer to the question she truly wanted answered the most.

“If what you said to me is all true...” her red, shiny lips muttered. “Then surely, out of everyone else... it stands to reason that it’ll be me that you’ll spend the entire Christmas day with, right?”