Page 7 of Sebastian

Even though it’s absolute chaos, I can’t help but marvel at the sheer size of this party. An undertaking this large is overwhelming and must have taken months to plan. Servers stroll by with hot cocoa and sugary treats that are gobbled up almost instantly. Food vendors under different tents offer a wide variety of traditional Christmas food from around the world.

A large, covered building with tables and chairs and a live band playing Christmas classics is down the slope and past the tents. Beyond that is a tennis court with face painting, bouncy houses, and other carnival-like games for the children to play and win prizes.

Standing halfway up the staircase gives me a view of the expansive property, almost every inch covered by something. In the distance is the skating rink, with attendants working to help children on and off the ice. Beside the largest Christmas tree I have ever seen is a massive swimming pool with a large waterfall and a cave underneath.

The water’s surface is covered in enormous silver balls that light up, and balloons adorn the entire length of the black safetyfence that surrounds the pool. Every detail has been carefully thought over. I suspect he had an event planner, as he seems too immature to handle something like this if he’s making comments like that.

“Chloe!”

I hear my name called out before I see Taylor inching her way through the crowd with her hand raised. When she climbs the steps next to me, I move to the side to give her room.

“Did you call a car to come get you?”

Puzzled, I ask, “No, why?”

“I figured Sebastian ran you off. I’m sorry about him.” She leans close and wraps an arm around my shoulders to comfort me.

“That idiot.” I toss my thumb toward the house. “Please. I’ve heard and probably said worse. However, I was surprised at how out of the blue it came. Like seriously, does he greet all his guests that way? Someone needs to teach that guy some manners.”

Her face crumples into an apology for him, which she doesn’t need to do as he’s a grown-ass adult or looks to be from his massive size in the suit. It’s impossible to tell his appearance under the beard, white hair, and hat. At least the children will think he’s the real Santa Claus.

“Paolo got after him, but there’s only so much he can do. Not that this is an excuse for his behavior, because it’s not. But he has so much wealth that he thinks he can get away with saying and doing whatever he wants. Really, there is no one to stop him or reign him in. Paolo said his parents try to step in, but even that’s rare.”

Taylor’s explanation sheds light on Sebastian’s behavior, though it doesn’t excuse it. The privilege that comes with immense wealth can often lead people to believe they can do as they please without consequences. I nod in understanding.

“Well, that’s fine because I won’t have to see him again after today. Until then, I’ll immerse myself in the festivities to avoid him, which will be easy to do with all the vendors he’s brought in. This really is magical.”

“Yeah, it is. I’ve never seen anything like it. Can you imagine coming to this if you were a kid?” Taylor says, unaware she’s hitting on a sore spot.

I’ve always shied away from expanding on my childhood, giving her bits and pieces over the years to the point she stopped asking. It was easier that way versus unpacking all the shit I went through to get where I am today.

Taking mini-semester courses through the winter break explained my absence to my family back home and friends leaving school for vacation. All excuses to stay at college, in the environment I busted my ass to get scholarships and the new city that represented my new life. It’s the life I chose, not the one I was born into. Far away from the sadness and poverty that overtook the holidays and made them just another ordinary day.

When I graduated from college and ran out of plausible college excuses, it became work and unable to ask for time off. Or failing to put in my vacation requests before everyone else and having to cover for families that needed off since school was on Christmas break. After so many years of making excuses, my mom stopped asking, and I could finally stop feeling guilty for avoiding my family.

My reply came softly, “No, I cannot.”

Even though I’ve missed out on such happy experiences, I can’t help but watch the children and their families revel in the magical atmosphere that Sebastian created.

“Me neither.” She gives me a little hug and then releases me. The chill from the air replaces the warmth from her arm. “Do you want some hot chocolate? It’s a little colder than I expected. Probably not the best idea to wear a dress on a day like this.”

Not one to judge Taylor’s fashion choices, I merely nod and say, “That would be lovely.”

“Okay, stay here so I can find you,” she instructs before disappearing into the bustling crowd, searching for the hot chocolate servers.

I remain perched on one of the dual staircases, taking in the enchanting winter scene when snow flurries start blowing from machines mounted on the roof above me.

The snowflakes swirl around me, forcing me to take refuge on the terrace. Not a second later, the speakers blast “Here Comes Santa Claus” and a dazzling spotlight frames Sebastian when he emerges from the door beside me. The crowd of children goes wild, jumping up and down while screaming.

When I try to descend the stairs and slip away from the spotlight, I find myself inexplicably blocked by a troop of pint-sized elves, linked arm in arm, singing and dancing in a joyous procession. Panic seizes me as I look around and try the doors leading inside the house. Those are all locked, and the door that Santa appeared from is closed too. There’s no escape route. I’m trapped on the terrace with an overly jolly Santa.

Sebastian, microphone in hand, greets the children with exuberance, his charismatic presence shining even brighter than the spotlight on him. He grabs my hand, plucking me from the patio doors and sending a bolt of dread through me.

Blood rushes to my head, and dizziness causes the terrace to swirl a bit. I can’t see anything other than Sebastian’s ridiculous Santa costume. His unyielding grip on my hand hauls me toward the garland-covered railing, where an eager crowd screams louder.

“And here’s a special guest, children. Mrs. Santa Claus!”

His voice booms through the speakers, carrying the message to every corner of the enchanted scene. I don’t know if it's my hand or his, but my palm is sweaty when I squeeze his tighter.

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