The crystal clear blue eyes swept swiftly around the cemetery. A thin layer of snow covered the ground, draping in white the paved pathways winding between the tombs and the sepultures. The bare trees whistled when the cold wind blew, and the old, broken church creaked. Even the sky had turned into a grayish-white color, almost as if it was mourning. 

The desolate scenery was mirrored in the man’s eyes as he walked to his family grave. When he laid a bouquet of roses at its foot, the deep blood red flowers vividly stood out in this field of white. The grave seemed to bleed from far away, tainting the snow in a sad yet beautiful way.

“Hi mom, hi sis’. How have you been?” the man said, crouching to clean the snow off the grave. Even though he knew the light snowfall would soon cover it up again, he couldn’t help it. “Hope it’s not too cold down there.”

As the words left his mouth, he lowered his eyes at the names carved in the pale gray stone. A tired smile stretched his lips, and his gaze grew tender.

Masha Lesskov, 1988-2010

Gulnas Brown, 1968-2004

It had been years since their deaths, but the ache in his heart still hadn’t faded. The pain of losing them was the same as always, tearing him apart whenever the memory of his mother’s smiling face or sister’s laughter surfaced in his mind. It made him feel pathetic, but these two had been a central pillar of his life, and without them, everything crumbled. Even to this day, he couldn’t forget the distress he felt at their funerals, nor could he forgive that man for driving them to their deaths. Sometimes, he couldn’t help but wonder what he could have done differently. Maybe they’d still be alive if he’d been less of a self-centered brat. 

The wind howled, and the icy snowflake whipped his rosy cheeks. The man tugged his scarf upward to cover his nose, then took a deep breath and mumbled:

“Guess what? I’m still working at that bar I told you about last time. It’s been a couple of months now, and the boss still hasn’t thrown me out. It’s quite a miracle, as you know. You could say that working on my temper has paid off a little; I don’t get into fights with the clients, even when they annoy the hell out of me! I keep my anger down and somehow manage to smile.”

‘Yep. I’m not beating those jerks at my workplace, but in the back alley after work,’ the man inwardly added, refraining himself from saying it aloud.

“So, I hope you’re proud of me. Your ‘little’ Misha has finally grown up a bit.”

The man bit his trembling lips, feeling the tears welling up. He had always hated being called ‘little one’, but now, he’d give everything to hear them gently mock the delicate build he had as a kid. Well, not like he had anything left of ‘petite’ anymore, for he had grown up into a man nearly six feet tall.

“Anyway, happy Christmas Eve!” Misha giggled as he took a flask out of his coat pockets. He solemnly toasted before drinking a sip of vodka, closing his eyes to savor the strong taste and enjoy the burning sensation in his throat.

After another sip, Misha let go of the flask and placed it near the roses. At the same time, he glanced askance at the bouquet of tulips lying beside the grave. Sure enough, the tulips were there again this year, and once again, he didn’t bump into that mysterious ‘giver of flowers’. They had been laying a bouquet of tulips on his family grave every December 24th, his mother’s death anniversary. Then, on January 1st, that person would bring another bouquet and lay it beside the first one. That day was the day his sister died.

Misha didn’t think much of it at first, but his curiosity eventually got the better of him. He did try to ambush them a few times, but they never showed up every time he waited for them at the gate. Instead, they came the next day when he was working or sleeping, leaving a bouquet of tulips before vanishing for another year.

At the thought, a small smile haunted his lips beneath the scarf. It was comforting to know that he wasn’t the only one left who had enough sensibility to pay his respects to his mother and sister. As the years flew by, the rest of the family and his mother’s and sister’s friends gradually stopped coming, saying they didn’t have the time. Only that mysterious person still passed by.

Lost in his thoughts, Misha poked the white flowers a few times before slowly shaking his head. What was he doing? He had to get going, or else he’d be late for work, and his boss’s nagging was quite annoying; it was even worse than the crying baby next door.

With one last glance at the tulips, Misha stood up and staggered a few steps before steadying himself—his legs had turned numb after crouching for so long. Then, he bid his goodbye and left the cemetery.

***

Folding his clothes, Misha glanced at his reflection in the mirror, and he almost instantly slammed the locker door.

Yes, it was Christmas Eve, and the whole town, including the bar, was heavily decorated in red and green for the occasion, but was the colorful costume necessary? He had nothing against reindeers; they were cute animals that lived far in the North and pulled Santa Claus’ sleigh. However, he didn’t particularly like them, and he liked them even less when reindeer antlers proudly stood at the top of his head, adding an unnecessary weight that quickly made his neck sore.

The most annoying thing was probably how well-made the accessory was, as realistic as possible. The clips and leather straps were hidden in Misha’s puffy strawberry blonde hair, giving the impression that the antlers were naturally attached to his skull. Fluffy reindeer’s ears also hung down on each side of his head, covering his real ears.

Misha didn’t know where his eccentric boss bought this kind of cinema-like product, but he hoped it cost him at least one month’s worth of his salary. And if his spending habits made him go bankrupt in the long run, then even better!

Sadly, he knew it wouldn’t happen. Stephan was filthy rich, more than enough to spend his money on top-notch costumes for all of his employees every time there was a special day to celebrate, such as Halloween, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, Saint Patrick’s Day, and so forth. Honestly, Misha sometimes wondered if his boss wasn’t a sadist. Asking them to wear a ‘special outfit’ for weeks because of one special day in the month…

Yeah, definitely a sadist.

But even if Misha held a deep hatred toward said outfits, he couldn’t deny they were one of the main reasons behind the bar’s popularity—the first one being the eye candy personnel and the second, the delicious snacks and drinks.

Misha took a deep breath, telling himself that working here had some benefits, like medical insurance and free drinks. The pay was also high, enough to make him forget about the clients’ starving stares, the endless stream of pictures, and the sloppy flirting. And... Oh damn, no matter how much he tried to comfort himself, Misha was still irritated and slammed the locker door to vent his frustration. His patience was growing thinner every day, and he hadn’t been blessed with a lot to start with.

Pursing his lips, he thought of his rent, which still needed to be paid. Instantly, he calmed down. Money came first, and moral integrity second.

Glaring at the belt lying on a chair, he forced his hands to move and took it with a frown, putting it on. The little fluffy tail was almost weightless, yet Misha was still deeply aware of its presence. He fixed his bow tie with a sigh, grunted when the clear sound of the bell dangling below his collar echoed, and then stepped out.

As soon as Misha was out of the locker room, someone sneaked on him and hit his buttock, making him jump and straighten his back. What the…?!

“For once, you’re not late, Blondie,” said a sweet, lovely voice behind his back. “Gosh, the tail is way too cute!”

The next instant, Misha felt someone tugging at the tail, the belt trying to fall off his hips. It was soon followed by giggles that made a shiver crawl down his spine.

“For goodness sake, Vaness!” Misha turned around, glaring at his troublesome friend. “Learn to keep your goddamn hands to yourself if you don’t want me to chop them off one day!”

“Oh my god! You’re so freaking cute in that get-up!” Vanessa shouted, pretending not to notice  Misha’s foul mood. “Let me take a better look!”

“No!”

“Oh, come on, don’t be stingy! I haven't had the chance to see you these past few days! You’re one of the main reasons I come to work, ya’ know? So, let me enjoy the sight a little!”

Misha’s mouth twitched. He was aware Vanessa had to take a few days off because her daughter had been feeling under the weather, and it had also been exam week. But did she really have to ogle at him so blatantly? They had seen each other not even two weeks ago, honestly!

“I must say, our boss really knows what to choose to enhance your cuteness!”

The outfit Misha currently wore indeed gave him a somewhat adorable air. The accessories weren’t too overbearing or too discreet, creating a pleasing effect once added to the bartender’s uniform. The black vest enhanced the man’s slender waist, while the brown of the reindeer ears and the grayish-white of the antlers mixed well with the strawberry blonde of his hair. It was quite the picture, though his crystal clear blue eyes still drew all of the attention.

“Are your eyes broken? I’m six feet tall! How the hell can I be cute?!” Misha protested, pinching his nose as his head started to throb. “And why am I the only one in a reindeer get-up? It’s unfair.”

“You want to wear the Mrs. Claus costume instead?” Vanessa asked with a serious tone. She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms before her chest, as if defying him to say yes.

Upon hearing his friend’s teasing words, Misha couldn’t help but take a better look at her clothing. The tight and short red dress with a white hem reinforced the curves of her hips, and a black leather corset with complicated patterns tightened her already thin waist. A large black belt with a silver buckle strapped her waist over the corset. Laced boots reached the middle of her thighs, the high heel adding a few inches to her short height. Atop her head was Santa’s Hat with a fluffy pompom, her curly brown hair falling below her shoulders.

“Now that I think about it, the reindeer isn’t that bad,” Misha mumbled before fleeing to the counter, turning a deaf ear to the loud and hearty laugh that resounded throughout the bar.

Mini theater

ML: I’m sure the corset would look pretty good on Misha, though.

Author: Yeah, I think so too. He does have a slender waist.

MC: I refuse!

ML: I didn’t have the chance to see you in your Halloween outfit, you know.

MC: Not my problem.

Vanessa: I got some pictures if you want ~

MC: DON’T YOU DARE!

Author: Too late.

MC: Stop bullying me. You’re awful, the lot of you!

Everyone: ╮(. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)╭