Even knowing there is a surprise waiting for them all downstairs, Callie cannot help but get herself ready. Maybe it's because it should be Christmas Eve, maybe it's just because Callie is Callie, but she begins her morning routine. After waiting for the shower to warm up, she steps inside and yelps.
It's ice cold.
So, she doesn't wash her hair and manages to get downstairs. Making a pancake breakfast for everyone theoretically would be a good idea, but she thinks everyone has had enough pancakes for a lifetime. It doesn't come up often, Callie's synesthesia, since it is lesser on the spectrum of synesthesia. Besides, she'd rather make a party trick of her art than of the way her brain is wired.
All of them have colours in the building, although most of them she hadn't noticed before now. Moonie is turquoise and always has been. It's an artificial colour, kind of like candy treats and the rippling waters in an edited photo. Maverick is red, but duller than one might expect. He is the colour of stop signs and solo cups and everything that is a warning. The two of them are opposites, kind of. Not quite though. Ro has always been brown, like black coffee and dimly lit streets on campus.
Some of the others are new. Benedict and Darlington compete in shades of grey. In some ways, it's hard to tell them apart, but the difference is there. Nearly joining them is Tempest, but her grey is much bluer. Almost like her eyes, though Callie doesn't usually try to make sense of the synesthesia. Marcellus is green in a way that isn't like trees, but like the artificial lighting in an arcade. Jerry is a kind of rust colour, like things old and worn but still kept around. Like Ro, Elodie is brown, though her colour is much creamier, like the kind of iced coffee, incense burning, soft girl she is. Galilee is brown too, but in a way that is colder than either of them. Her brown is like the spines of books in her parents' library, where Callie wasn't allowed to sit on the expensive couches.
This all comes to mind because her newest word association is pancakes. It's a light olive colour. Now, Callie wouldn't usually call colours ugly, but she is sure pancakes are terrible.
She gets down there while Moonie is putting the finishing touches of the ceiling. She is surprised they are awake at all. Moonie glances over at Callie, tucking out the chair.
"You did this all yourself?" Callie asks.
Moonie shakes their head, "Tempest left a note. Darlington helped her finish the job. The two have them have gone around for the wake-up call."
Callie nods, admiring the room. She wishes she could've been here to help with the finishing touches, not that it isn't perfect.
"Thanks for the paint, by the way," Moonie smiles. "Let me know what I owe you."
It's an expensive supply, but Callie brushes them off. Gifts are the kind of thing that are supposed to be shared at this time of year.
Satisfied with the state of things, Moonie and Callie wait outside the room. They whisper about the events of the evening, about Maverick's confession and their reunion, about the hours Callie stayed up last night finishing things, about how everyone is going to be so happy to see it all together.
Soon enough, the early arrivals are there. Jerry, hidden under his massive sweater, sits on the ground and rests his head on his knees. He's there even before Tempest and Darlington are back, who even divided and conquered the floors. The others continue to filter in over the next half hour. Galilee's camera is wrapped around her neck, a request from Tempest. She bends over to take a picture of Jerry, who has fallen asleep despite the loud noise bursting out of Maverick's mouth.
Soon enough, Elodie is there, and then they are all ready.
Marcellus is closest to the door, but Darlington jingles his keys, "let me, sticky."
Even though Marcellus sticks his tongue out, he steps aside for Darlington. Then, Darlington walks in, and they all enter the staff lounge.
It's not all that special, really. Callie used construction paper and some of her own supplies to put up make a paper Christmas tree which is on the wall. It's made of sheets and sheets of green paper strips, poking off the wall the way a real pine tree might look. With her extra time, she cut up some more paper into the shape of bulbs for people to decorate. Eleven total, one for each of them to hang on the tree. Along a table at the back, the table they use for flip cups and other drinking games, the bulbs await them as well as the gingerbread houses Tempest kept away from them. A paper wreath is on the back of the lounge door and Moonie hung up paper mistletoe. Sparkles adorn the paper snowflakes on the wall, courtesy of Darlington. He has the paper cuts and bags under his eyes to prove it. Tempest thinks it isn't much, but it is enough.
"You guys blow me away!" Maverick says, admiring it all. The textures of the shining snowflakes draw his eye. He looks between them all, beaming.
Elodie has a soft smile on her face. She remembers the cookies she made for Santa and the milk her father stole. Never did she judge him for it, but seeing this she really understands it now. At least, she understands the magic he was trying to bring her, even if the risk seemed high.
Jerry, Benedict, and Marcellus share a nod, and they sneak out of the room while the others gather around. Then, Galilee whispers to Maverick. His eyes light up.
Elodie slips out of the room, beginning to make hot chocolate. Things seem to be going well enough that she isn't tempted to spike hers. Even Darlington seems like she can leave it alone.
With the Polly costume on, Maverick insists they all take pictures with him as if he is Santa Claus. If anyone finds out he will be in deep trouble since he technically isn't supposed to take the costume outside of the Athletic Unit's storage, but he isn't supposed to be here anyway. Before Galilee can snap the first picture of Galilee and Maverick, the three-man band returns.
"Trying to show us up, are you?" Callie smiles, staring at them all from her spot.
She and Tempest have teamed up to make a gingerbread house, which would be going better if they had Marcellus on their team. Both Callie and Tempest are slow and steady decorators, dedicated to their craft. At least, they will be once they manage to get the thing to stand up.
Benedict, Marcellus, and Jerry all shrug. Jerry counts them in. He can sing, surprisingly, but that's not the point. Marcellus joins in, and so does Benedict, begrudgingly. Christmas carols, whose chords they've managed to scrap together through trial and error, late nights in the stairwells so the others can't hear. At least if it sounds good enough, they can do a sing-along.
"Jerry can sing," Ro says, to not really anyone but herself.
He looks at her, somehow hearing her despite his bucket drums, and he raises an eyebrow at her. She returns a gesture, with a smirk on her face.
Maverick stands up so quickly he almost knocks Moonie on the floor. Instinctively, Ro dives and catches them. When Moonie looks up at her, wide-eyed and blinking, Ro rolls her eyes and drops Moonie.
Soon enough, Maverick is out of the suit. Elodie walks in the door just as Maverick scoops up Moonie with one hand and Galilee with the other. Even though Galilee tries to back out, Maverick pulls her in, forcing them to dance with him. They rock together, Galilee bopping slightly and looking to Callie for help, who just giggles.
Elodie drops the hot chocolate off on the back table. She grabs Tempest's hand, and says for the second time this break, "if I'm dancing, so are you."
This time, Tempest joins her with less reluctance. She still is just awkward enough that Maverick's attention shifts to her for a second so that Galilee can duck out. She sneaks away behind Darlington, who squares himself up.
"If I get roped in, you'll have to find a new spot," he whispers.
He looks over at Ro, suggesting she goes there, but she is standing too much in the open for Galilee's taste. Jerry is still singing the loudest, but he has given Ro one of his drumsticks. His hands are on her arms, he is trying to teach her to paradiddle. While there might be enough space to crouch behind them and their damn buckets, Galilee has little hope.
Then, Elodie nods for Darlington to join in. He furrows his brow, but then Tempest's teeth form a tight toothy grin that one might do at the dentist. With a sigh, Darlington steps forward.
"Sorry, Galileo," he manages.
Darlington knows how to ball dance, and as comeuppance, he grabs Tempest and forces her to spin with him, one hand on her waist and one holding her hand. Maverick whoops at them both clapping. Even being out of the first trimester, Tempest can feel the spinning making her nauseous. She pawns him off to Elodie, whose shoulders tighten. She does dance with him though, and for a second, just a second, her grimace is hard to force.
In the chaos, Galilee takes refuge with Callie at the gingerbread table. She snaps picture after picture, of Maverick twirling Moonie in the air while they giggle, of Benedict's sharp gaze at his guitar as he plays the melody line, of Elodie whispering in Marcellus's ear which Galilee swears makes his hair visibly go static. Callie is still decorating her gingerbread house, smiling.
"You... your art did this, you know?" Galilee manages. "Did you... or... are you at three now?"
Callie looks over at Galilee, who is leaning at an awkward angle to catch a picture of Tempest and Elodie doubling over in laughter. It occurs to Callie that she has never seen Galilee position a photo. She only does candids. When Callie does art, she likes references. At least, she her imagination is so vivid, she pictures things exactly as they are. Cool brown Galilee, her hair a deep walnut, her eyes wide until she thinks, her fingers long but her nails short. Callie can see things so well, it hadn't really occurred to her the way Galilee sees the movement in things, the power behind them, maybe just as much as she does.
"Sorry?" Callie asks.
"A three?" Galilee said. "You said you were at a two."
Callie closes her mouth, nodding, "something like that."
Then, Galilee smiles. She stands up, and from above, takes a picture of Callie, whose hands are on the gingerbread house still. Callie's narrowed in eyes, running back and forth as if trying to analyze a piece of art she's never seen, make Galilee blush.
"Well, when everything began, the night of the party which was supposed to be our last hurrah before the New Year and we did the toasts, you looked so done up. You always do, with the hair and the lipstick and the satin, but your fingers were still dark from the paint. It reminded me of frostbite in a way, and I just thought it was fun to add a photo of your fingers in white, like snow maybe," Galilee gets it all out in a huff.
Callie opens her mouth, an answer on her lips, before a hush falls over the room.
"Okay, okay! I can't wait anymore!" Moonie squeals.
They hush band, and Benedict feels so much relief because they had only practiced three songs since they didn't realize the dancing would be such a hit. Callie knows this is her cue so she wipes the icing off her fingertips and heads over to the door. Moonie darts back through the crowd to find Ro.
"Close your eyes," Moonie tells her, and Ro opens her mouth but Moonie nearly leaps, "do it!"
So, Ro closes her eyes.
Callie cuts the lights.
The air in the room feels thin since everyone takes in a deep breath all at once. All of them except Ro, who opens her eyes and looks up.
The ceiling was decorated, and they hadn't even noticed. She wasn't looking for the thin pieces of paper Moonie taped all along it. She couldn't have known to look for glow-in-the-dark paint. Above her though is the firework display, the one she would have seen if she had been back home with her family. Ro has to shut her mouth to prevent herself from looking like a fish. It's the only wherewithal she has since tears fill her eyes.
Moonie awaits, nearly rocking on their feet. Ro hugs Moonie as tightly as she can. Buenos Aires, here, with her on Christmas Eve. Her parents will be so proud when she tells them that someone did this for her. Someone loved Ro enough to do this. Everyone did what they could, from the music to the hot chocolate, to the dancing and photos and activities and the ceiling above her.
One-thousand, six-hundred, and twenty-three dollars. And seventy-nine cents. If she was ever going to waste that much money, perhaps this might be an acceptable reason.
~~~~~
Don't even talk to me. This is all I'm going to talk about for the next six months. Anyway, I thought this was cute and fun if short. I needed some moments for some characters to get their little moments after last chapter was so heavy on some of them and not all of them. Anyway, let me know what you think in the comments!
Hope to see you soon!